


Live and Let Live

by JantoPhi21



Series: Johnbastian In Space [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Dissociation, Felching, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M, Mpreg, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-10 07:11:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6972352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoPhi21/pseuds/JantoPhi21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John moved in over the next several days, or rather he ceased to go home. Seb barely noticed the transition; John was just there, as though he were meant to be. Seb wasn’t even sure if John had given up his old place or kept it just in case; but it didn’t matter. He came home to Seb each night, and that’s all he really cared about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Top of the Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Formerly titled 'The Bitter End' but I realized that was the title I had for the next fic in the series!

When Seb awoke, it was nearing mid morning; he could tell by the false window screens and the artificial sunlight they produced. John was gone, and he tried not to feel disappointed. 

“Spyder,” he addressed the computer, wishing Jim had been more creative when he’d named it, “Breakfast, full English.”

The soft but masculine voice answered back, “Sir, your breakfast has been ordered and is available in Kitchen 2.”

“Ordered by whom?” he demanded.

“Your guest. He is in Kitchen 2 as well,” the computer informed him. 

John was sitting at the table going over some reports on the spare pad he’d found in the kitchen, making sure there was nothing pressing that needed his attention today. He gave Seb a smile as he came in. “Good morning,” he said over his teacup.

“You’re still here,” Seb tried to sound ambivalent, but it was obvious he was pleased. 

“I am,” John chuckled. “I took the liberty of ordering breakfast for you.”

“Yeah, Spyder told me. ‘Preciate it. Needed something hearty after last night,” Seb thanked John. It’d been years, at least, if ever, that he’d wanted to invite someone to stick around, but he didn’t know how. He took a gamble, “You got a busy schedule today?”

“That’s what I was just checking and I don’t. So it looks like I’m all yours.”

Seb gave a soft groan, “I’m not sure you realise how much I like to hear that. What’re you thinking for today? We can switch if you want. And I’m always up for anything kinky. Not much you can do that’d surprise me at this point.”

“I’m up for most things,” said John. He looked at the pad and decided to take a gamble of his own. “Don’t know what your longer term plans are, but I’ve got an opening at the clinic for an assistant.”

“I’m not exactly known for my, uh, healing skills,” Seb confessed. “Not a lot of first aid in sniping.”

“No, but I bet you have steady hands and patience and that’s what I need more than anything else.” John found himself hoping he’d at least give it a try.

Seb looked skeptical. “What sort of things you think I’d be doing?”

“Assisting, like I said. Sometimes I need another pair of hands. And I’d prefer it to be someone I trust.”

“So we talking answering phones, or cleaning up sick and pus?”

“More of the latter, if that’s not a problem.”

“Maybe,” Seb considered. He’d need a job if he were going to stay on the Vanguard, but he’d been hoping for maybe small transport missions, something thing that’d keep his Tiger in employ. She had a small payload, and he could envision transporting cargo to some of the lesser moons and planets in the area. He told John as such, ending with, “So if you don’t mind, lemme see if I can find something a bit more in my expertise. But I appreciate the offer, Doc, and I’ll let you know within the next week or so?”

“Yeah, no problem. I just find myself hoping you’ll stick around.”

“I’m trying,” Seb laughed, “That mean you’re hoping to meet up again sometime? ‘Cause with a performance like that, I’d definitely be amenable.”

“Same. You should eat up. Might have a busy day ahead of us.”

“You got another day off? This flat’s got some fun shit; bastard who had it built was a bit manic, needed lots of distractions. Don’t use half of ‘em myself, but together we could have some fun,” Seb suggested, liking the idea of adding some new memories to the place so Jim wouldn't be haunting him in every room. Then he smirked, “And that’s not even counting the number of surfaces we could fuck each other over.”

“I could probably take another one off if there isn’t anything major.”

“Either way, Doc, you ever fuck in an anti-grav deck?” Seb laughed. Most anti-gravity decks were for training purposes, and most explorations on a planet without gravity were mission based. But lucky for him, he had an anti-grav deck at his disposal, and he was curious to see what someone with John Watson’s thoughtfulness could do with such a contraption. 

John couldn't help his grin. "Can't say that I have."

“After breakfast? Or just before lunch? Don’t know how your stomach handles the grav flux,” Seb asked, with an anticipation of excitement prowling in his chest; something he hadn’t felt in ages. 

"Let's let breakfast settle a bit." He put his hand on Seb's knee.

Seb looked down, startled by the affectionate gesture. Affection was something he certainly wasn’t used to. “Yeah, alright,” he said distractedly, suddenly very aware of how fucked up he was in comparison to, well, anybody. “Sure you wanna waste your day off with me?” he teased, putting up a front, “Respectable bloke like you, loads better people to have a lie in with than a sketchy, washed-up sniper.”

"I'm sure. I just seem respectable."

Seb chuckled. “Just making sure. I give respectable a wide berth myself. Too much shit in the universe to give a toss ‘bout how much little old ladies in the canteen like me.” Seb finished the last of his breakfast, and shifted his mess to the butler and addressed the computer. “Spyder, butler,” he ordered. The butler sunk into the counter, and Seb heard the washer begin to whir, and the butler came back up, clean and sanitized. 

“Fucking love this flat, sometimes,” he muttered, “Been in loads of places without the capacity, having to manually load the washer, or worse yet, do the cleaning up yourself. It’s a wonder we we able to ever evolve as a species; can you imagine? Spending the entire goddamned day prepping and cooking and cleaning for a fifteen minute meal? Surprised we didn’t starve to death first.”

"I cook sometimes. But it's hard to get fresh out here," John shrugged. He squeezed Seb's knee. "Care to give me a proper tour?" He knew better than to ask about his previous flatmate. 

“Yeah, it’s probably a good idea. Haven’t been here for months, should probably check it out. Spyder here’s pretty house proud, but nothing like a good eye to make sure it’s all straight.” Seb looked down at his naked form, and then to John, who was wearing his pants and undershirt from the night before. “You need something to wear? Spyder can get something for you. I mean, I’m a bit of a nudist on my own, but I know it ain’t everyone’s preference.”

"Either way." John stood and leaned up to kiss the taller man. 

Seb hummed, wrapping his arms around John, walking John backwards out of the kitchen. When it became too difficult, he growled, grabbed John’s arse, and hoisted him up so John could wrap his legs around his waist. 

John found himself carried by strong arms. It was odd, but strangely comforting, as if Seb knew what he needed. He opened his mouth to Seb, hands on his shoulders. 

With one hand kept under John, Seb wrapped his other around John’s torso, pulling him close, and kissing him hard, wet with slips of tongue, biting just hard enough to hear John groan, to feel John’s cock twitch against him. 

He pulled back just long enough to ask, “You’ve a preference?” before kissing John again. 

"Told you. I go either way." Right now he liked the idea of Seb taking charge, though, of forgetting that he'd once again fallen in with a stranger. 

“Mind if I fuck you up against the wall?” Seb growled, nipping at John’s neck, leaving blossoming bites. John was thick, clearly well muscled, but given his height, he was so easy for Seb to manipulate.  _ A bit like Jim _ , he thought, then pushed the thought aside. Nothing about John was like Jim. He wasn’t a fucking psychopath, for one.  

But John was beautiful and strong and  _ fuck _ , Seb wanted him every way he could take him. 

"Just  _ fuck  _ me," ordered John. He wanted Seb sober, wanted to surrender. 

“Yes, Captain,” Seb chuckled, and pressed John against the wall near a decorative table. He opened the drawer and smiled when he saw the lube was still there. He pulled it out, setting it on the table as he rearranged John. Using his own weight at leverage to keep John pinned to the wall, Seb pulled one leg after the other over his shoulders, leaving John folded nearly in half. He tugged at John’s pants, pulling them towards his thighs, and ran his hands over John’s arse, two fingers drifting down the cleft, to make sure he’d have ample access to John’s hole. He circled the rim, pushing against John to bite at his neck again, and then with one hand, reached for the lube.

John groaned, trusting Seb, wanting the bit of pain with the pleasure. 

Seb spilled the lube, giving an idle curse as it coated his hand, and reached down, letting his fingers slick the way. He slipped a finger into John, just to knuckle, and moaned, “Christ you’re hot. And so fucking tight.” 

“Been a long time since anyone fucked me.”

“Gonna fix that,” Seb muttered, slowly working John open, teasing him with one finger, then two. He’d heard the loss in John’s voice, but figured it wasn’t his place to ask. Even if it were, this was definitely not the time. “So much fucking lube, it’s dripping down my wrist,” he commented, taking his time, watching John pant and writhe between him and the wall, “One more finger, you ready?”

“Yeah… god yeah…” John was sweating as he writhed, just needing, glad that Seb felt in no way like his last lover.

The pure fucking  _ want  _ in John’s voice was spine tingling, and Seb groaned as he pushed a third finger into John. John was holding on tight to him, breath hot on his neck, his arse sopping wet, clenching around his fingers like a wanton whore, and Seb couldn’t take it anymore. “That enough, Doc?” he asked, hoping like hell John was ready.

“God, yes,” groaned John, canting his hips as much as he could in the tight space. “Fuck me, Seb.”

“Fucking gorgeous, the way you say my name,” Seb panted, letting John’s legs fall off his shoulders into the crooks of his arms. He angled himself, then lowered his arms, feeling John open up around him. The three fingers were good, but not quite enough, and Seb moved slowly as John tossed his head back and gaped at how wide he had to stretch to accommodate Seb’s cock. Seb smirked; his cock might not have been long, but it was certainly thick enough, which seemed to be all that mattered, with men, women, and enbys alike. “Good, isn’t it?” Seb asked, easing John down, feeling his cock enveloped with what felt like liquid fire. 

“Yeah, God, move, Seb.” John squeezed around him, reaching one hand up to tangle in the nape of his neck.

Carefully, Seb pulled out partway, then slid back in. There was less resistance this time, but he was afraid to rush too much, and he dropped his head forward, looking down towards John’s cock, trapped and leaking between them. His rhythm remained steady, taking deep breaths and keeping pace with them, eyes closed, mind focusing on how John clung to him, how he could feel John’s heartbeat, and his own, the slide of his cock, the grip of John’s arse around him; it was all fanning a fire, spreading quickly through his veins, smoldering deep, hotter and hotter, but contained. This was no, quick, flash-in-the-pan fuck. 

John opened his eyes to watch Seb, seeing the concentration on his face. It warmed something in his heart that he thought had long since gone cold.

Realising he was likely closer to climax than John, Seb let one hand drift to John’s cock, the impressive member quite a bit longer and nearly as thick as his own. “You weren’t kidding,” Seb huffed, remembering John’s smug voice last night. He stroke John in time with his own thrusts, the excess lubricant on his hand making it that much easier. 

Groaning, John writhed against him. “Feels so good.”

“Like that?” Seb asked, “Or you gonna tell me what you want?” Seb kept his pace, but was willing to adjust. 

“You can keep going just like that,” John felt himself dancing on a knife’s edge.

The pace was demanding, and the anticipation was goddamned delightful. The gasps and moans John tried to hide were fucking music, and added to the filthy slick sounds of his cock plunging into John, the little pop as the head of John’s cock slid in and out of his fist, and his own desperate whimpers, it was a symphony of sex. There was only one thing missing. 

“Fuck, Doc,” Seb begged, needing the push, “Say my name again, just like before.”

“Seb,” John groaned, needy. “Sebastian.”

_ Christ _ , that was it, hearing his name like that; Seb held tight, plunging fast and hard, fucking relentlessly into John’s body, crying out as he came, throb after throb, releasing himself deep inside John. 

John came between them, shuddering with the force of it, letting his head drop back against the wall with a thunk as he felt Seb filling him.

Seb pressed a hand to the wall to hold both he and John up through the aftershock of his orgasm. He leaned in to kiss John tenderly, letting himself take his time, then slowly pulled out and knelt to let John stand on his own. Once John was down, Seb grabbed John’s waist, pulling him to his mouth, and he began to lap up the come that had smeared down John’s front. At the same time, he brought his hand back to John’s arse, dripping with come, and with two fingers, pressed his come back inside John, feeling it thick inside him, and wanting it to stay there. 

John groaned again. “If you’ve got a butt plug, I’m amenable to let you use it. I want to feel you all day,” he breathed.

Seb groaned again at the thought, taking a moment to think as he moved to wash John’s cock with his tongue. Did he have a plug that hadn’t been used? Could he get one? And how  _ the fuck _ was John so fucking big that even soft he could make Seb gag?

John ran fingers through his hair. “We could order a plug, I bet your butler could get one. Or you could just eat out my arse for now and we can get one later.”

_ John was going to kill him. Just bloody murder him with ecstasy _ . He flipped John, face to the wall, pulling his cheeks apart, and watched as his come dripped from John’s red, quivering hole. He licked a broad stripe, starting where the ejaculate had started to trickle down John’s thigh, and up to his arse, tenderly caressing the raw flesh, before slipping his tongue inside to seek out more of the bitter taste of his own come. It was never the taste, but the act itself that drove him wild, and he barely came up for air until John was as clean as Seb could make him. 

John was a gasping mess by the time Seb was finished, oversensitive and nearly high from the sensations. “God, Seb,” he giggled as the other man finally pulled away.

“Not even close,” Seb growled playfully, biting softly at John’s arse. “How bout I give you that tour now? Bathroom, first, yeah?”


	2. Good and Proper

“Hot bath maybe? Big enough tub for two?” John suggested.

“I’m bringing the lube,” Seb grabbed it, and John’s hand, stood and dragged them to a painting on the wall. The painting, or wood etching John surmised as they got closer, was of a cathedral, submersed in water, with a sailboat in the foreground. Seb touched the two tips of the cathedral’s steeples, and they heard a slight, nearly indetectable whir of machinery. A hallway shimmered out of solidity, leaving a hole in the wall. Seb tugged him in the darkened staircase leading up to the second floor. 

“Oh, this is all a bit like a mysterious castle,” giggled John.

“Either there was something in your juice, or I have quite the effect on you,” Seb laughed, referencing John’s giggles. They were cute, he didn’t mind, but it didn’t seem to fit the man he met in the pub. “Nah, most of these rooms have multiple exits.” 

He led the way up to the staircase’s landing, off which grew several more staircases, and Seb continued up; he knew the way by heart. He stopped at the wall, pressing his hand against the wall, and watched the molecules dissipate. Once clear, he led John into the master bathroom, with a grin, watching John’s reaction.

John’s draw literally dropped. “Oh my God, Seb, this is amazing.”

“Love this room. I could spend hours here,” Seb beamed, it really did feel like his own little world in here. 

“I can see why.” First off, the room was enormous. Secondly, there was a huge tilted window that, instead of the illusions downstairs, had a view of space with just a glimpse of the planet below. A tub was set below the window, so that one could lay back and drink in that view of infinity. Beyond the tub was a pair of sinks and a glass-walled shower that had a bench in the middle. Everything was done in black tiles embedded with silvery lights, giving the illusion of floating in space in the dim lights.

The room was strategically lit to be both dark, but easy to navigate. Seb gestured to the taps, “Why don’t you start ‘em up while I brush?” He figured the doctor would appreciate his attempts at cleaning his mouth. Seb unwrapped and stuck the brand new brusher in his mouth and bit down, letting the the scrubbing bristles do their job, while they slowly flooded his mouth with a combination of cleansing alcohol, menthol, and fluoride. He spit as he was able, and when the brusher stopped, he removed it, placing it in the brush holder. He checked the levels of the toothpaste fluids, and found they could use replenishing, dipping down into the cupboard to find a new cannister. 

As he looked, he came across a few more bottles of lube, each one touting a different flavor or effect. He even found a bottle of enhancers; meant to revitalize refractory periods. They were easily picked up at Pharma, but normally the price tag was a deterrent. They were considered completely safe, but Seb didn’t know how John’d feel about them. He grabbed the lot, and spotted a box of condoms in the corner. 

“Fuck!” Seb cringed, how pissed would John be? He knew he was clean, had to get a health check once he announced he’d be staying on Vanguard, and would be going past the ports, into the living and working quarters of the ship. “We fucked up on the condoms last time.”

John shrugged. “You passed your health checks, didn’t you?”

Seb smirked, relieved, “Yeah, we good?”

"Yeah. I can't get pregnant. All human. You?"

“Don’t think I can,” Seb ruminated. It was one of the ways Jim had controlled him; not letting him have access to his health records. He didn’t know if he even had the genetic history to produce offspring; about a third of people weren’t hybrids, so in those cases, pure human males couldn’t give birth at all. Or was he infertile? Did Jim drug him unknowingly? Had he been implanted with birth control? He’d never known. Didn’t think he’d ever need to know. Then again, he assumed Jim would kill him first, and look how that turned out. To be honest, he wasn’t sure he cared. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” he told John, not knowing if it was a lie or not. 

"Good. Now, this bath looks amazing." John stepped in and it turned on hot, just how he liked it. 

Seb watched John step down into the bath, tracing the lines of his body, the strength of his arms, the power in his thighs, and answered, “Think the view’s pretty amazing right here.”

John smiled up at him. “No complaints from here either.” Seb was handsome. Damaged, certainly, but they both were, like kindred spirits.

Seb shrugged, he’d always thought he’d look alright if he’d go in for some cosmetic cell regeneration, to clean up his scars. Figured right now, he just looked good from a distance. But even if most of the scars were from Jim, he couldn't just dismiss them, they were just a much a part of him as the memories of getting them were. 

He’d carved Jim’s initials out though, leaving a gaping scar on his hip after he’d confirmed the bastard was dead. Could still hear his voice ringing in his ears sometimes though, taunting him, manipulating him. He shook his head, trying to clear Jim out, and when that failed, he demanded, “Tell me story, Doc, something funny.”

He heard his voice after he spoke, and softened it, “Please?”

John reached up for him and tugged him close as he stepped into the bath. “Well there was this one time on Rigel IV…”

Seb followed him in, sitting perpendicular to him, draping a leg over John’s lap. He was barely listening, so much as letting John’s voice come in like a flood to wash away the dust Jim had left behind. He let the jets pummel his back, laughed when John laughed, and nodded whenever John looked his way.

John smiled at him, knowing he wasn’t really listening, but glad to help him in whatever way he could. There was a sense of melancholy about him that John knew too well. And this beat the hell out of staring at the walls of his flat wondering why he was even surviving. 

Seb realised belatedly that John had stopped talking, and opened his eyes. “Sorry, just, uh, using your voice to drown out the one in my head, hope you don’t mind. But I’m feeling good right now; relaxed. You?”

“Yeah. And I understand. The one in my head gets pretty loud sometimes too. He didn’t give me the physical scars yours did, but he still left some major damage.” John hoped it was okay, speaking out loud about this. If Seb didn’t want the conversation he’d stop.

Seb looked out the window, into the vast space, littered with distant stars and planets, and answered carefully, “Yeah, the scars were the easy part. But someone gets their hooks in you, they more often than not end up getting ripped out. And when one of them’s a sadist fuck, the hooks aren’t as metaphorical as you’d like.”

John reached over and squeezed his hand, hoping his silence would show his support.

“It’s nothing,” Seb dismissed. “Over now. No use getting angry, upset, what have you; what’s done is done.” He paused, not wanting to trivialise John’s problems, “I mean, to each their own, though.”

John shrugged. “I have nightmares, but I can’t change the past either. I like you, I feel like maybe you understand.” He pulled Seb close and kissed him tenderly, resting a hand on his hip.

The kiss was soft, nice, and Seb barely knew what to do with it. So instead of dissecting it, or John’s intentions, he enjoyed it. He let himself float in the deep bath, the tub long enough for him to stretch out comfortably, and let John just kiss him. Let John take the lead, because _fuck_ , he had no idea what proper sex looked like, and this seemed to border on intimacy and he sure as hell didn’t know what that was supposed to be either.

John could feel his anxiety. He’d dealt with that before, though he pushed those memories aside. He rubbed Seb’s hip with his thumb, just taking his time kissing him, letting him know he was cared for and could be taken care of.

Wrapping an arm around John’s neck, he pulled his body in, first straddling John’s lap, and when he realised how awkward of a height differential that made, slipped down instead to kneel between John’s knees. He placed a hand on either John’s waist, then ran his hands down John’s thighs, then up again, just  _touching_ , for no other reason than he could. 

John smiled at him and pet his hair, feeling something soften in him that he didn’t think was possible. Maybe he really could start over.

Seb was following John’s cues, but it was making him fucking hard all over again. It’d been an hour or so since before, so Seb figured he wasn’t doing too bad. But the feel of John’s skin beneath him, the way John’s hipbones tried to coax his hands to more sexual pleasures, and Seb couldn’t stop thinking about all the ways he wanted John. Wanted to flip him over the bath’s edge, and eat him out again, he’d be so clean, and he wondered if he could get John off like that. Wanted John to fuck him, face pressed into the floor, hard and ruthless. Wanted to worship his cock, stroking, kissing, licking, then when John couldn’t take it anymore, he wanted that entire behemoth thing shoved down his throat until he passed out. He’d been aroused before, but couldn’t remember ever  _wanting_ like this, not without the experiments twisting his belly, making him nearly sick with the cravings. 

“You are fucking fantastic,” Seb murmured between kisses. 

John stopped. "Thanks. But don't call me that." It reminded him too much of what he'd lost. 

Seb nodded, “Sorry, Doc,” and pulled back, not sure how terribly he’d killed the mood.

John leaned in and kissed him again. "I like Doc. Don't call me brilliant either. Everything else is fine."

“Just lemme know,” Seb told him; it was easy enough to drop a few words he rarely used from his vocabulary anyways. His hands went back to John’s body hesitantly, giving John plenty of opportunity to stop him. If there was one thing he could do, it was read the tiniest shift in mood. It’d saved him from a number of A&E visits. 

"I won't hurt you," John murmured. He could tell Seb was being careful and it made his heart ache. He'd seen enough abuse in his life to know the signs, if his heavily scarred body wasn't enough. 

It didn’t keep him from moving slowly though, he wanted to trust John, sure, but he wasn’t fucking stupid. He’d heard _‘I won’t hurt you’_ far too many times to believe it. He touched John’s chest with a fingertip, keeping eyes on John’s face and hands, as he continued to drift back into John’s embrace. He knew from experience he’d be on alert for a while, and he waited for John to make the next move. 

John kissed him again, resuming the slow, gentle kisses as he stroked Seb’s back, feeling the tension in the room. Seb’s cock had wilted a bit, but there was time, no rush for either of them. John would take whatever time Seb needed.

The heat of the water and John’s affections ebbed his tension, though he didn’t lose the sharpness in his eyes. His cock regained interest, and finally, as the water grew cold, he looked at John with desperation, “You gonna fuck me, Doc, or you just gonna sit here and tease me?”

“Would you like me to do that here or go find a bed?”

“Don’t care, just-” Seb remembered, “Oh, yeah, if you’re interested, Doc, I got six different types of lube, and some enhancers. Could fuck all day; make the most of your day off?” He raised a brow suggestively.

“I think I’d like to fuck you slow,” said John, letting a hand drift down to his arse. “I want to treat you right.”

“That doesn’t answer my question; those things aren’t mutually exclusive.” Seb’s voice lightened as he offered, “Could be slow as you want, that way.”

“Okay. Let’s go to a bedroom.” John found himself wanting to take Seb apart. In a good way.

Seb waited until John climbed out to follow him, then pointed to the counter where the different containers. There were flavors, warming, cooling, sensation dulling, orgasm inducing, muscle relaxing, and combinations thereof. “Wanna grab one?” he asked, standing in front of the dryer vent. “We got the flavorless, basic stuff back in the bedroom, too.”

“I think we can take all of them for now. Mind if I have your butler pick up a few toys?

“You order what you want for you, but I’ve got plenty for me,” Seb responded, “So let’s see what I got before we order anything for me, yeah?” He picked up a few bottles, leaving the others to John, and, walking past an obvious door, and opened the hidden passageway again. 

“This way,” he gestured.

John followed close behind, curious about all the hidden passageways, but figuring that conversation could wait too.

Once back in his room, Seb opened the closest, and wheeled out a small chest. “In there is the stuff I like. Some of it, the ropes, chains, cuffs, rings, various restrains whatever we can both use, that’s the bottom drawer. The cock and arse stuff is the middle drawer, so see what you like of mine to use on me & what you might wanna order for yourself. And the top is mostly gags, clamps, ears, stuff we can both use too.”

Seb opened the top drawer, dropping the lubes in, and rolling the whole thing John’s way. “Anything you wanna use from there is fine, these are my toys. Ask about anything else; there’s a lot of shit I don’t really wanna use again upstairs, but I’m open minded.” 

The thing was, he fucking knew that if John wanted to, John could replace Jim just as quick. And Seb’d let him. He knew he was fucked up, he knew potentially walking into the same damned trap might get him killed. He hoped his instincts about John weren’t totally wrong. He’d known Jim was trouble straight off, but needed him, needed food, needed off the pissant rock he’d been orphaned on, and he lept at what he thought was the lesser of two evils. He would’ve died on that planet; he wasn’t sure he was better off now.  

“If you don’t want to see it again, then I don’t need it,” said John, looking through the impressive collection. He found himself hoping that Seb's previous lover was dead which he suspected was the case. “Safe word?”

“Don’t know about you, but I’m not planning on doing anything I need a safe word for,” Seb answered. He understood the concept, in theory, but didn’t really want to put himself in the position of needing one. Not til he had a better handle on John. 

"Okay. I won't tie you up or anything then." He kissed him and pressed him into the bed. 

Seb smiled as he fell backwards, “There we go.” He pulled John down on top of him, spreading his legs to for John to fit in between.

John kissed him again, dropping a hand to finger him open. 

Seb spread himself wider, giving John access, and let his hand roam up John’s arms. He looked at the scar, “Okay if I touch it?” he asked. No two soldiers ever felt the same about their battles scars, he’d learned.

"I don't mind."

Seb let his hand drift over the whitened ring of flesh, feeling the dips and ridges of the small circle. He’d been shot, but it wasn’t like this, his had just ripped a chunk of his calf off, but this? This was beautiful. He imagined the larger exit wound on the back was just as damaged, just as perfect as this was, but he’d have to wait to inspect it. 

"It almost killed me," said John quietly. "But I'm still here."

“Glad for it,” Seb said, “It’s fucking gorgeous, you know. I mean, eye of the beholder and shit, but just,” he ran his fingers over it, circling it, “But I think that if something’s not a little scarred, a little damaged, then it ain’t really real, you know?”

"I know what you mean." John grabbed lube to coat his fingers. He kissed down Seb’s chest. 

Seb closed his eyes, focusing on John’s dry lips as they brushed over the blond hairs on his chest, the fingers dancing up his inner thigh, teasing him. He took deep, solid breaths, hoping that John would skip all the pain, like he did last night, showering Seb in nothing but pleasure.

John felt like he was dealing with a skittish animal. That was okay; he could be patient. He wanted to smother him with pleasure, show him that the universe didn’t have to be cruel.

He opened Seb up almost torturously slow, and Seb finally had to plant one foot on the bed, and hook the other around John’s good shoulder to keep himself spread for John, who was pacing himself with a steady slide of two fingers. Seb was panting, hard, and sweating as John teased him, sometimes pulling out to circle the rim, before easing back in, deliberately avoiding his prostate except a few well timed strokes over the gland to make Seb arch off the bed with a growl. 

“You open so pretty for me Seb, you really do.”

“Christ, Doc, how you make something so fucking dirty sound so fucking clean,” Seb gasped, “You’re making a bloody mess out of me.” He was right; his cock was leaking over his belly, and John was using enough lube that he could feel it leak out of his arse. 

“I think you’re ready for me.” John reached over and put Seb’s hand on his ample cock. “Feel what you’re doing?”

“Making you hard as fuck?” Seb guessed breathlessly.

“Yeah, you could put it that way,” John leaned over and nibbled Seb’s ear.

“How would you put it?” 

John chuckled. “Straight up your arsehole,” he growled shifting and spreading Seb’s legs.

“Hell yes,” Seb groaned, lifting his hips up, gripping his arse, and opening himself up wide for John. 

Watching his face, John pushed inside, easily slipping in after opening him up so wide.

Seb let his hands slip to his thighs, still holding himself, letting John push deeper and deeper. He looked up at John, mouth open, panting, nearly whimpering with the stretch, “Fuck, Doc, feel so fucking full and you’re not even all the way in.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he kept moving slow and steady.

At this rate, Seb knew his arms were going to get tired, so he pulled his knees back, and draped them back over John’s shoulders, so that should John choose to lean down on him, he’d be bent nearly in half. It gave him the freedom touch John again, while making sure he could still feel every bit of John’s cock. 

“Gorgeous,” muttered John, thrusting in until he bottomed out, feeling Seb writhing on his thick cock. “So full, aren’t you?”

“Christ, yes,” Seb moaned, “Love feeling stuffed like this.” He might have had several inches and a few stone more on him than John, but he that didn’t mean he wasn’t above letting John know exactly how much he liked to be buggered.

John kissed him again and moved slowly, enjoying the feel of Seb’s body clinging to him, wanting to draw this out for both of them.

It was electric, this aching pace John had set for them. Just slow enough to make sure Seb couldn’t come from John’s thick cock alone, but fast enough to leave Seb breathless, heaving with pleasure, the fringes of his short hair dampened with sweat and plastered to his temples. 

John peppered him with kisses. Seb was so responsive. He’d missed this, he realised, missed making love to someone, missed having someone groaning beneath him

This was better than last night, better than this morning. This was the best sex Seb had ever had, and though he’d been Jim’s, he’d been loaned out plenty. And nothing, no one was ever like this. It was pure fucking bliss, and he found himself hoping that John might be a more permanent fixture. 

John slowly began to build them towards a climax. “I hope you don’t think this is too forward of me, but I’d rather like to stick around with you.”

“Hell, I’d let you move in. Enough rooms in the house,” Seb admitted, drunk on arousal, letting himself confess thoughts that he hadn’t meant to say quite yet. He desperately needed to come; he was almost shaking with the urgency of it.

“I’ll consider it. My flat’s been feeling quite empty. You’re going to come now,” he said, giving a few more thrusts and striking his prostate each time.

The way John just announced it; it wasn’t an order, not a demand, just a matter of fact. And he was absolutely right. His orgasm felt like it was being pulled out of him, ripped out from his core, and as Seb came, his whole body contracted, lightning flying through his nerves, and he gripped John’s back hard without thinking. 

John groaned with the force of Seb’s orgasm. His own came a heartbeat later and he collapsed against Seb’s chest, mouthing at his throat as he pumped deep inside of him, filling him over and over.

To feel John’s cock throb and pulsate inside him as he came down from his orgasm; he nearly howled, but kept his voice low, sounding like the tiger Jim had always called him. But it didn’t bother him; being Tiger was something Jim couldn’t twist and manipulate. As John’s orgasm waned, Seb found his voice, and requested hoarsely, “Plug?” 

“Okay,” whispered John, brushing his hair back and reaching for one, carefully pulling out and pushing the plug in.

“Wider,” Seb was still panting, “least as thick as you, or bigger.”

“Let’s see if you have one that big.” John stroked his thigh.

“Oh, I know I do.” He’d taken some truly ridiculous widths. “The glass one, or the metallic blue, either would do.”

“Right,” said John, grabbing the blue one and carefully inserting it.

Seb groaned as he stretched around the plug, but enjoyed it’s depth, and how John was now trapped inside him; it was damned delicious. He sat up at the edge, where John stood, and moaned, ending with a sharp gasp as it brushed his oversensitive prostate. “Perfect, Doc,” he smiled, then reached up for a kiss. 

John kissed him back. He was hot and in need of a shower, but right now he just needed to nap. “Let’s get some sleep and a shower, then some lunch in us.”

Quickly, but with steady control, Seb picked John up, rolling the both of them onto the bed, side by side. Seb burrowed under the covers, “Sounds like a plan,” and tucked around John, John’s hair tickling his chin. 

John smiled, feeling Seb relax as he fell asleep. He was glad Seb wanted to stick around. He fell asleep with Seb's strong arms wrapped around him. 


	3. Fear and Trembling

Seb woke first, slowly and sleepily, and clenched around the plug; keeping him both open, and filled. The slickness of the lube, combined with John’s come meant he still felt wet; and his cock was rubbing into the crease of John’s arse. He wondered if John’d care if he lubed up and rutted against his arse while he was asleep. He wasn’t sure if that was acceptable in a more typical relationship; god knows he’d woken up in worse positions before. 

John woke, realizing Seb’s arms were still around him, and his cock pressed against his arse. He rocked back just slightly, encouraging him, still dragged down by sleep.

That was all the encouragement Seb needed. He reached behind him for the lube, checking the bottles until he found the gentle warming one. He poured some onto his fingers, then slicked up his cock, and nestled it back into the valley of John’s arse. He held John close around the abdomen, as he thrust against him, rolling his hips to feel the plug inside him. “Hell, John,” Seb whispered against his neck. 

John groaned. “Feels good,” he whispered. “Feels like we fit each other very well.” He was still half-asleep.

“Fucking hope so,” Seb murmured, genuinely hoping that John was as good as he seemed. That this wouldn’t turn out to be another nightmare. He rutted against John’s arse, and as he neared his orgasm, he rolled John onto his stomach. He pulled up John’s hips, and spread the cheeks of his arse. “Hold yourself open, Doc,” he requested.

John obeyed, cock growing hard between his legs. He wanted Seb, wanted to be filled. Hell, wanted to be wanted. Not used and discarded.

Seb put a hand on the small of his back, and grabbed his cock with the other. He teased John’s hole, now exposed, with the tip of his cock, both still slick. He could feel John twitch against him, and starting stroking himself. The hand on John’s back slid down, and he let a single finger circle John’s rim as he worked his own cock.

Moaning, John relaxed underneath him, trusting that Seb would see to both their pleasures.

“That’s right, fuck, trembling like that, Christ, you’ve got the sweetest fucking arse,” Seb muttered, almost near orgasm, “C’mon, Doc, say my name again, it’s so pretty when you say.”

“Sebastian,” he whispered, aching with need.

“Fuck,” he groaned, coming hard over John’s arse, leaving stripes down the cleft, come dripping down his arsehole. With the final throbs, he pressed his cock back up against the opening, and pressed against him softly, not spreading him open, just taunting John with the pressure of it. 

Groaning, John clutched his own arse, spreading himself wider for him. “Yes, yes.”

“You sure, Doc? Haven’t worked you open proper,” Seb checked.

“Whatever you think is right.” he muttered.

“Don’t want to hurt you,” Seb said, a smirk in his voice, “And since you seemed to like it earlier…” Seb moved John’s hands out of the way, using his own to spread him wide. He lapped up a single stroke from John’s bollocks, past his arsehole, to the highest point Seb had come. Seb licked with the broadest part of his tongue, then offered suckling kisses to the skin around John’s hole, cleaning up the last of his seed. He pulled back, “Touch yourself, if you want,” and went back down, using the point of his tongue to circle John’s twitching hole. 

John brought a hand to his cock, shifting to lay half on his side as he stroked himself off, loving Seb’s wicked tongue. “You’re amazing, Seb.”

Seb moaned, slipping a slick finger just knuckle deep into John, then pressing his tongue in alongside it, keeping one hand on John’s arse to make sure he could reach as deeply as possible. John’s hole fluttered around his tongue, eager and desperate for more, and Seb added a second finger, keeping them both shallow as he slicked John open with spit and come. 

“God, more, Seb, please.”

He slipped his fingers in a bit deeper, then added a finger from his other hand, spreading John’s hole wide enough to force his tongue more deeply inside. He curved his fingers, giving John the back and forth motion, without letting his fingers slip out. He could feel John’s trembling, and knew he was getting close. He nearly growled, both at how much he fucking loved eating John out, and also to add sensation to John’s nearly overwrought body.

John nearly sobbed as he came, trembling underneath Seb, “Good, so good,” he whimpered, floating on the ecstasy of it all.

Seb continued on, until John placed a hand on his head. He snaked around to John’s front, taking the hand John’d come over, and sucked the ejaculate from his fingers. “So, that was okay, then?” Seb half-teased, but wanting to be sure John had enjoyed himself as much as he had. 

“Yes, really. It’s been ages since I’ve been treated so well.” John gave him a tender kiss.

“Good,” Seb answered, content. “Well, not good that it’s been ages, but glad I could do it for you. What say you to a quick shower? I’ll need to brush my teeth again.” Seb chuckled, “Can’t help it, Doc, just fucking love your arse.”

“And it’s all yours. Go on and get the water started, I’ll be in a minute.” John smiled and stretched. A small alarm got his attention and he went hunting down his trousers. Finding them, he pulled out a small communicator and checked the message. Cursing, he texted back and went to find Seb. “I’ve got an emergency at the clinic.”

The bristles in his mouth, Seb couldn’t talk, but he nodded his understanding. He felt a knot his chest; John wasn’t coming back. He was sure of it. But no use in wallowing in it, so he waved to John and pointed to his teeth to show he was still cleaning them. 

John walked over and kissed his back. “I’ll be back soon as I can.” He gave Seb’s arse a playful swat, figuring he’d say something if he didn’t want him back.

Seb winked, keeping the smile near his eyes to not betray his disappointment. He watched John leave. Teeth and mouth finally clean, he stepped into the shower, letting the heat relax him. He kept the plug in; no reason not to, and tried to figure out what the hell he was going to do now. 

-o-

John was tired when he knocked on the door several hours later. It was late, probably Seb was asleep, but if he was going to fall asleep exhausted after a four hour surgery on a Taren, he’d rather not do it alone.

Seb heard the knock immediately, bolting awake. He reached for his weapon, then demanded, “Spyder, show me the door.” An image of John was revealed in front of him and his shoulders slumped, relieved. No one coming to even old scores then, and the added bonus that John actually had come back. As far as Seb was keeping track, that meant John’d yet to lie to him; and that was highly in his favor. “Spyder, open the door, and let John eat or drink whatever he’d like.”

The door slid open for John, and as the doctor crossed the threshold, the automated voice offered, “Sebastian has instructed that you are to eat or drink whatever you would like, Sir.”

“Thank you, but I think right now, I’d just like to sleep. Can you show me where he is?”

“The bedroom, Sir.”

“This way?” asked John, heading down the hall, trying to remember.

“Third door on the right, Sir. I’ve informed Sebastian of your arrival.”

“All right, thank you.” John pushed open the door and smiled at the figure of Seb in the bed. “I’m exhausted,” he announced. “Hope you don’t mind if I just want to sleep.”

“You can sleep in here, or I could get you your own room,” Seb offered. 

“If you don’t mind cuddling, I don’t mind sleeping here. But it’s your house.”

Seb threw back the covers, “Come on in, Doc, you’re good.” He smiled comfortably, nearly an expert at drowning his more extreme emotions; considering them obvious weaknesses.

John crawled into bed and snuggled up against Seb. “Thanks,” he muttered, quickly falling asleep.

It took Seb an hour or two to fall back asleep; the knock at the door had set off a number of internal alarms. But John’s steady breath across his chest finally lulled him into sleep as well. 

-o-

John woke first again. He stretched and smiled down at Seb, kissing him gently before getting out of bed and heading for the loo.

Seb rolled over into John’s space, breathing in his scent. He rather liked John’s scent; sweat and earth, hints of antiseptic. He heard John returning, but made no motion to move.

John leaned down and kissed his cheek before leaning over to quietly order breakfast to be delivered to the room, since it appeared Seb was still asleep.

“Didn’t think you’d actually come back,” Seb muttered, turning his head towards John. 

“I said I would. I ordered breakfast, if that’s okay.”

“People say all sorts of shit,” Seb huffed a bitter laugh. “Didn’t think I’d see you again. But breakfast sounds good.” He pulled the sheet off his body, still lying on his belly, the room warming up her the climate control specs of the flat. “Gets warm in here quick,” he muttered appreciatively.

“You’re still wearing the plug,” said John, moving to the bed.

“Told you, like feeling full. Don’t worry, Doc, I’ve been using the long acting lube. Think there might be some of you still in there.”

“Let’s get some breakfast first. I don’t have to be back to work for a while.” He gently caressed Seb’s arse.

As he spoke, the computer beeped. “What’d you get me?” Seb asked, turning to sit, letting the plug settle. It chafed slightly, and he knew he’d need more lube soon. Or more likely, just to take it out. 

“Just an English breakfast,” said John, collecting it. 

“Excellent, Doc,” Seb accepted the plate, “So, what was the emergency?”

“Taren got himself impaled while working on his ship,” John shook his head. “Four hour surgery.”

“I know Taren clumsiness is just a stereotype, but they aren’t doing much to refute it,” Seb shoved some toast in his mouth, chewed and shallowed. “Only known a handful of Tarens, and not one of them didn’t have some sort of accidental deformity. All self inflicted. Think it’s gotta be something with their bone structure, or healing ability, I don’t know. Maybe an underdeveloped kinesthetic sense?” He picked up a pork sausage with his fingers, taking a big bite.

“Could be. Not the first one I’ve patched up and not the last, I’m sure. He’s lucky I’m a good surgeon.”

“Damn fine fingers,” Seb agreed. 

“I’m glad you like them so much,” he stole a kiss.

“Hard not to.” Seb shrugged with a half smile, and dug into his meal. He both loved and hated that Jim’s computer knew exactly what he’d want every time. He’d had some fascinating variety in the last year, hopping from tiny planet to even smaller moons, but when it came down to it, there was still nothing he’d change about a good full English. 

John smiled as he watched Seb eat. He didn’t want to admit it, but it was good to have someone else around, not have to rattle around his tiny flat by himself.

Once full, Seb took his plate over to the computer access terminal, picking up John’s empty plate on the way. “Gonna shower, Doc, got to take care of some things,” Seb slapped his own arse and laughed. “You’re welcome to join, but don’t have to,” he said, disappearing into the bathroom. 

John gave him a minute to warm up the shower, then followed him in. He stepped behind Seb and pinned his wrists to the wall with one hand, other toying with the plug. 

“Fuck!” Seb growled, “You know how to share a fucking shower, don’t you?” He’d been hoping John would join him, but didn’t want to pressure him; he didn’t know how rough the surgery had been, or if he had other plans for the day. But he also hadn’t expected for John to be so deliciously aggressive. 

“I can tell how much you like this,” smiled John against his skin. “It’s nice to have someone so responsive,” he admitted. “May I fuck you again?”

“Way you touch me, it’s hard not to be,” Seb huffed, as John bit softly against the muscles in his back. He rolled his hips against John’s, which was still playing with his arse. “Yeah, would love to have you inside me again; you treat me so fucking fine.”

“We may not know each other very well, Seb, but you deserve it.” He twisted the plug and carefully pulled it free, sliding his own thick cock in the moment he could.

Seb meant to reply, but instead breathed out carefully as John filled him. He wasn’t quite as slick as he’d like, but he knew he could handle it. And John,  _fuck_ , he was strong, firm, commanding, yet  _kind_ . He wasn’t worried that John would hurt him; not really. 

John moved slowly, aware that the lube would be all but gone. “Good,” he praised, holding Seb’s hip with his free hand as he buried himself to the hilt.

As he adjusted around John, a goal made easier with how wide the plug had kept him open, Seb started to rock back against John. His legs were spread wide, knees bent to keep him accessible, and he panted as John inched his way in, then back out. It was slow and deliberate; Seb imagined John was the type to start a fire with kindling and well placed firewood as opposed to gasoline and a match. 

“Good,” murmured John. He let Seb fuck himself on his cock, letting go of the other man’s wrists to brace himself on the walls of the shower. The sex was already amazing, he could only imagine how much better it would be once they worked on safe words and really got to know one another. 

Seb was already so close, it was fucking ridiculous. He felt like a damned teenager, but maybe it was just his response to John. The most generous thing he could say about sex with Jim was that sometimes, it wasn’t cruel. But when it was this? Seb used one hand to keep thrusting onto John’s cock, and the other to touch his own aching member. He stroked in time with his thrusts. “Christ, Doc, hold my hips; just a little bit harder, fuck,” he uttered above the sound of the shower’s spray. 

John obeyed, getting a thrill from Seb’s pleasure. He hadn’t realised just how much he’d missed this, missed intimacy. God, he hoped Seb would let him stick around. 

It was just right, the width, the depth, the force, and the warmth of John, the grip of his hands, and his arousal burned hot like the sun and he felt the waves and the fire and the storm build up inside him and with a gasp and low sob, he came, the intensity bright like a solar flare. Spent, he partially collapsed against the shower wall, overwhelmed, like the orgasm had come from every cell in his body.

John ran soothing hands over him, ignoring his own needs. Instead, he pulled out and grabbed a warm rag and got to cleaning Seb, supporting him and making sure he’d be okay.

Seb slid down onto the floor, letting the water run over him as he caught his breath. “Holy- you have- no idea,” he tried to say, but stopped as he realised he wasn’t able to get the words out quite yet. It was spectacular; he had no idea what it was specifically that had been so perfect, but it had been and suddenly John was at his side, gently washing him. 

Kissing Seb’s cheek, John planted his feet and hoisted the bigger man up, toweling him off a bit before helping him back into the bedroom and tucking him in.

“You going somewhere?” Seb asked lightly.

“Just figured I’d curl up with a book or some telly. You want me to stay?”

“You’re not done,” Seb nodded at John’s cock, “Can’t leave you unsatisfied.”

“You’re exhausted. It’s fine, you can make it up to me later,” John smiled.

Concerned flash across Seb’s face, and he sat up. “No!” he said firmly, “I have to. I can’t- just let me. I can’t make you wait.” He threw off the covers, and quickly slipped off the bed and to his knees. “I can. I want to.” Seb almost winced at the tone of his own voice, knowing that it was betraying his panic.

“Hey, shh, shh it’s okay,” John leaned down and kissed him before hauling him back into bed. “Seb, I’m not going anywhere and I’m not going to hurt you. I enjoyed your pleasure and I’m fine, really.” He ran a soothing hand through Seb’s hair.

“No, you-” Seb tried to scramble back up, “ _I have to_ . It’s- he’d-” His eyes grew wide and his face shut down as he realised he’d said one word more than he meant. He tried to fix it. “I know you’re not. It’s just me. I can’t- it’s-” He stopped, and pressed his palms to his eyes. “Fuck, Doc, who the hell turns down a blow job?!”

John sat next to him and held him against his chest. “I know he hurt you. I know you don’t have good reason to trust people. Just because I’m aroused doesn’t mean you have to wring every orgasm possible out of me.” John kept running fingers through Seb’s hair, pushing away thoughts that compared his straight blond hair to the dark curls he’d once known.

“No, it’s-” Seb growled, looking to the side. “I don’t really wanna go into it, but there were  _consequences_ to not reciprocating, and- I’m- I’m gonna be on edge and anxious til I do. Fifteen years of training’ll do that to you, even if I don’t think you’d do that.”

“Christ. I’m sorry. Okay. I’ll keep that in mind for next time. I do want to establish safe words with you, too.”

“Don’t see what good that’s gonna do. Won’t prevent this-” Seb motioned between himself and John. “Listen, if you’re not gonna let me get you off, can you get my sedatives from the top drawer of the dresser? I’m not gonna calm down otherwise.”

“Of course. Do you need me to prescribe you some more or do anything else?”

“Nah, not now. Don’t need ‘em too often, got a few left,” He addressed the computer, “Spyder, water. No, scratch that, Screwdriver. Tall glass.” He turned to John, “Double dose oughta do it.”

John nodded. “Just tell me. I want to make sure I’m treating you right.”

“Easier said than done, Doc. Some of it I don’t even know till it happens,” Seb shook his head. “Listen, you see me start acting crazy, ask me. I’ll try to tell you. Just- you gotta understand. I know now, that it wasn’t good. But I didn’t know then. Thought it was normal. And fifteen years? Fucks with your head.”

Seb shook his head, “Fuck, I’m too messed up for this. For you. You don’t need this shit. All my fucking problems.” He looked up the pleading obvious in his eyes, “Fuck, my meds? And my drink? Then you should probably go. I’m no fucking good for anyone.”

“I’ll get it for you, but I’m not leaving. I think we’re good for each other. You haven’t heard any of my nightmares yet.”

Seb watched John fetch his drink and his pills; Seb swallowed them and chugged the alcohol in one go. “You want an idea? Go check out the master bedroom. I don’t want to talk about it. But you might understand just a bit better. Before you try to sign on for more than you can handle.”

“Okay. Where is it?”

“Go to the hallway. Ask Spyder.”

John kissed the top of his head and pulled on some clothes before going out. “Spyder, where’s the master bedroom?”

“Turn to your left, and it’s the third door on the left.”

“Thanks.” John turned and walked down the hall, opening the door with some trepidation.

It was almost an optical allusion, the way the room was split. The majority of the room was as luxurious of the rest of the house. A personal holodeck, rich, old paintings that were undoubtedly originals. A large, king sized bed, with the softest sheets. Not a cent was spared in consideration of this part of the room. A half wall with a fireplace accessible from both sides split the room; two thirds of it soaked in gorgeous opulence. It was the remaining third that left John nearly breathless. 

The rest of the room was concrete, and the first thing John noticed was the ample amounts of blood staining the floors. Some were just drops, others clearly were puddles and dangerously indicative of substantial blood loss. The walls were covered in what John first assumed were torture implements, but upon further inspection, they were severe and extreme elements of sadism used in sex play. Whips, which John could immediately assign to certain scars on Seb’s back. There were an unbelievable variety of blades and knives, cuffs and chains, clamps, and a painful variety of cock and ball torture devices.

There was cage, far to small to contain someone of Seb’s proportions, a table with straps, chains and stirrups, a chair that eerily resembled an electric chair, but didn’t appear to be wired to anything, and a steel cross in the corner. Blood stains splattered and dripped down the walls. 

John had seen plenty of combat, wounded, dead and dying. But this… this still made his stomach lurch. He backed out of the room, letting the door fall shut and putting a hand on the wall to steady himself. He took a few deep breaths and walked back to Seb, wordlessly gathering the man in his arms and holding him.

Seb’s sedatives had kicked in, but he was still barely awake when John came to him. “You saw? Get it now? Don’t wanna talk ‘bout it. But you should know.”

“Do you want me to get rid of it? I can if you want me to. I understand why you never want to go back in there.”

“Never go back there. Probably kill you if you tried to make me,” Seb rested in John’s arms, falling into sleep. “Do want you want with it.”

“Okay. Just rest now.”

Once Seb was asleep, John left him alone and went to talk to both Spyder and call in a couple favours. They quickly and efficiently cleaned out the out the room before John sealed it off. He’d turn it into something else eventually, but right now Seb needed him.


	4. In Consequence

John moved in over the next several days, or rather he ceased to go home. Seb barely noticed the transition; John was just there, as though he were meant to be. Seb wasn’t even sure if John had given up his old place or kept it just in case; but it didn’t matter. He came home to Seb each night, and that’s all he really cared about.  

John and Seb continued to be intimate, while John tried to support him. It was good to have something else to focus on besides himself. Seb appreciated the efforts, although he wasn’t sure if John could ever make him ‘normal’ and to be honest, he wasn’t sure what normal should look like. But if normal were the way John touched him, starting with the delicate, quiet burning of a fuse, and ending in the most spectacular fireworks, then Seb hoped he might be able to be just bit more normal with John’s help.

Seb took off for a job a few weeks later; he’d gotten a simple, yet hefty paying gig to take out the warlord captain of a ship that was hovering over the small planet of Atna and controlling their communications until a ransom was paid. The Assembly of Toran Planets had sent their armada to attack, but the ship was armoured and shielded beyond belief. So now it was Seb’s chance to do what the ATP’s own snipers couldn’t. He looked forward to exercising his skills, but found himself reluctant to leave John behind.  

“Gonna miss you,” Seb confessed to John, laying in bed the morning before he was to head out. It was a new feeling. He’d always viewed his contracts as respites from Jim’s attentions, but this? It was as though there were a magnet inside him, drawing him closer to John as his mission loomed. 

John took advantage of Seb’s absence by transforming the master bedroom into a garden space, so that there would be something peaceful there, instead of all the pain. He did most of the work himself with his bare hands. The violent side of the room he turned into a calm pool, covered in hanging plants. The plumbing was hidden, but the plants were all self watering so if one or the other was gone for a long period of time they’d be okay. There were benches and a small hidden bed, just in case, shadowed by a small tree. The room was scented with flowers, almost none of them red. He hoped sincerely that Seb would like it, even as he slept in their bed and missed the feel of him.

The assassination of Captain Gyet went smoothly. Seb had found an angle the ATP snipers had overlooked due to it’s proximity to the ship. But the oppressing ship was programmed for the ATP sniper vessels, not Seb’s own, older model that had his own shielding techniques. But he was never more thankful for the autopilot than he was on the way back. 

He’d caught some sort of virus, and he was exhausted, to the point of needing nearly twice as much sleep as he normally did while his body combatted whatever it was he’d caught. His nose was stuffed, and he had to release his urine cache twice, and as a result his trip took a day longer than he’d planned. It was infuriating; he wanted,  _ needed _ , to get back to John.  

-o-

John was asleep in their bed when he heard the door. Spyder hadn’t alerted him, so it had to be Seb. He yawned and sat up, knowing Seb would be in the room in a moment.

Seb stumbled into the main bedroom, feeling sweaty and miserable. He walked to John’s side of the bed, gave him a kiss on the temple, and ran a hand through his hair, feeling a peace pervade over him. Then he made his way to the bathroom. He needed to feel  _ clean _ .

He used the toilet, then stepped into the shower, letting the heat and warmth comfort him, then scrubbed a week’s worth of mission off his skin and down the drain. He soaked for a bit longer, then stood in front of the warmers till he was dry. He brushed his teeth, looking at himself in the mirror as the bristles did their work. There was something different about him; but it wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe it was just the look of relief on his face, a look he’d never seen on himself coming back from a mission. 

John waited for Seb to finish. He could tell his lover was exhausted. Well, he could show him the room in the morning. He smiled and gathered Seb against his chest when he finished and came to bed. “Missed you.”

“Yeah,” Seb sighed, tucking himself against John, “First time I’ve ever looked forward to coming back. That I wanted to be back.” He kissed John’s chest, “Missed you. And I’m sick on top of it, so just be careful. Don’t want you to catch anything.”

“I’ll be mindful.”

The next morning, Seb clearly wasn’t feeling well. John decided to put off showing him the transformation a little longer. “You should come into the clinic so I can look you over,” he said.

“No, just need some rest is all,” Seb answered. He wasn’t fond of doctor’s offices, even if he did trust John. “Maybe if I’m still feeling like shit in a few days. But it’s a waste of time if it’s just something minor.” 

He ordered breakfast in bed, feeling hungry despite the illness, and kept a jug of water by his bed as he slept the morning away after John headed off to the clinic. Midday, he finally crawled out of bed, and checked his account for his payment. Half a year’s salary for one trip; he smiled satisfactorily. He’d access to Jim’s accounts, but didn’t want to use them. Ever. But a few of these types of jobs a year, and he’d stay self sufficient. The flat was mostly fine; he’d done enough free work for Jim that he figured he’d earned it. 

John wouldn’t be back for a couple of hours, so Seb entered the rec room’s holodeck. He wasn’t up for a hunt; he’d essentially just had one, but he called up a mountain hike, and chose a mountain from a planet he hadn’t been to yet. He stuck with a mid-level hike, he was still a bit tired, and the terrain would be new. The mountain was technically an active volcano, though on this planet, it was a very slow eruption, and instead of lava like most planets, it was a warm, harmless water-like gel that rolled down the mountain. 

Seb hiked, watching the wildlife, animals he’d never seen before; plants, some of which may have been animals, he couldn’t be sure, and a variety of other fascinating rock formations, dirts and minerals. He was rappelling down a rock face when Spyder alerted him that John was home, and so he stopped the program, going out to meet him. 

Smiling, John could see Seb had been exerting himself. “Feeling better?” he asked, leaning in for a kiss.

“Eh, still off, but I was bored and had a headache from too much sleep. Thought a nice hike’d help,” Seb shrugged. “Anything exciting at work today?”

“Nothing really.” He hung up his coat. “I have something to show you. It’s in the room you don’t like, but I hope you’ll be pleased. I turned into something good.”

Seb took a step back, eyes wide. “No.” His voice was firm, and cold, but he could feel his heart beginning to pound. 

“Would it help if I showed you what it was first?”

“No.” Seb clenched his fists, “No.” He backed away, breathing hard, his whole body tense and he could already feel the pain seeping through his muscles, the memories flooding his core. He knew John was trying to be helpful, but all Seb could do right now was stifle the urge to fight. 

Adrenaline raced through him, and his mind was blank, he wasn’t even sure where he could run. He could never run. He was never safe. Jim would find him, and punish him. He deserved it; he knew what would happen if he ran away. And Jim didn’t want to hurt him, he always said that. That if Seb would just follow the rules, Jim wouldn’t have to do this, make him bleed, scar his body. Seb was lucky, Jim reminded him, that he cared enough to discipline him. No one else would, they’d see his body and his scars and know how awful he was, how disobedient. And Seb was grateful; Jim was right. He’d be dead already if it weren’t for Jim. Jim had saved him. It was his own fault. It was always his fault. He fell to his knees instinctively; maybe he could avoid the bullwhip this time.

“Christ,” muttered John he took a step forward and gently ran his fingers through Seb’s hair. “I’m sorry Seb, I’m sorry,” he said softly..

Seb flinched as he was touched, jaw firm, eyes closed. He knew better than to talk; and let himself go as limp as possible while still kneeling; it hurt less that way. The world was black around him, and he descended into himself, trying to find the shell he could hide in, the one that could block some of the pain as it happened. 

John got down on his own knees so they were more or less eye level. He leaned in to kiss Seb gently, touching him softly.

Seb flinched again, but more out of confusion. Jim never kissed him like that, if he kissed him at all. No one had kissed him like that. Not until John. 

_John_ . 

_John_ kissed him like that. John, who didn’t hurt him. John, who wasn’t Jim. Not Jim. Jim was dead,  _dead , and he couldn’t be here. _

He opened his eyes, and saw John looking at him with deep concern. He lunged into John, kissing softly, so softly, ignoring the wetness in his eyes, his whole body welling up with sheer relief.

“I got you,” said John softly, holding him, rubbing his back, never wanting to see that look of terror on Seb’s face again, heart aching. 

“I”m sorry,” Seb said, curling into his chest. He repeated the words over and over, humiliated, terrified, exhausted, and worried about what John thought of him now. 

“There’s not need to apologise,” soothed John, running fingers through his hair. “You’re okay. You’re safe with me.”

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” Seb pulled away. “Just a defense mechanism, that’s all. Just forgot where I was for a bit. Not your fault.” He sat back, “I just need to calm down for a bit.” He wasn’t sure how he’d do that; maybe he’d head back to the holodeck and call up a weapons range. Liquor might work, but it also ran the risk of making things worse. He sat against the couch, and laid his head on the cushion. 

“So, how was your day?” Seb asked. He knew he’d already asked, but was hoping to revert to normalcy as best he could. 

“Not bad. Nothing particularly exciting,” John left his hand on Seb’s thigh. “Hot bath sounds good. Care to join me?”

“Yeah, I’ll join you. Tell me another story?” he requested, remembering how John’s voice had washed over him so comfortably the last time. 

“Be glad to. Come on, Seb.” John kissed him again and privately decided not to mention the room again.

John offered his hand to help Seb up. Seb led them up the side passageway to the star lit bathroom with the Jacuzzi tub, through the back panels and labyrinth of stairs. Eager to rid himself of Jim’s lingering feel; the man was obviously dead and could no longer,  _should no longer_ , affect him like this. He took charge, turning the taps and adding a few tablets to the water; one for stress, and one for anxiety. 

John kissed him again and drew him into the tub, against his chest, murmuring a childhood story about brave men who fought dragons.

Seb listened, more so than he had the time before. John’s storytelling voice was melodic and honest, as though he’d watched the dragon slayers with his own eyes. It was a beautiful contrast to what he’d been used to, and he told John so. “Anyone ever tell you that you’ve got a gift for stories?”

"No, they haven't. I don't get close to many people."

“Seriously?” Seb questioned, “You seem like such a- an affable bloke, kind of guy who makes friends with anyone. I half expect you at the pub in a middle of a bunch of folks, like you were the kid everyone liked in uni, and then invited over to dinners, find a nice partner, have a few kids, you know. You don't seem at all the kind of guy to end up with someone fucked up as me.” Seb twined his fingers in between John’s as he talked, as a reassurance that just because Seb didn’t know what he was doing there with him, by no means did Seb want him to leave. 

"I play that part, yeah. But when it comes right down to it, I'm not really. I've got my own demons."

“Better at hiding them than I am, that’s for damn sure. Wish I had your sort of control,” Seb sighed. He’d stayed mostly alone this last year because he didn’t really know how to be around people. Even to be able to pretend would be nice. He barely left the flat as it was. 

"It's better to have someone around," said John, holding him. "It's not the same, but my dad beat the shit out of me until I managed to get away and join up."

Seb figured that the ‘someone’ John was referring to must have been to the man in his own past, who he’d likely found after leaving the war. Seb assumed John was still heartbroken; he never spoke of the man in his past, and so he followed John’s lead. He instead addressed the latter half of John’s statement. “Sorry to hear that,” he leaned up to kiss John’s chin, “Don’t matter that it’s not the same; it’s still shit. Kids don’t deserve that shit.”

"If I ever had kids no one would ever lay a hand on them," said John with quiet ferocity. 

“No doubt,” Seb agreed quietly, “Tell all sorts of bedtimes stories; keep ‘em safe. Keep ‘em happy.”

"Definitely." John hugged him. "Feeling better?"

“Don’t want to claw my skin off, so there’s a plus,” Seb dismissed, “Still have a bitch of a cold; tired and stuffy, but the steam’s helping. I’ll probably call it an early night, but you want to have dinner, and do something tonight? Holodeck, cinema, darts? Have pretty much anything you need in the rec room.” 

"Sure. Maybe I should check you out in the morning. Just a scan."

“Eh, it’s just a cold. Don’t worry about it. You really want to help, order me up some Cold Care from the Pharma,” Seb answered. “C’mon, what’d you want to do tonight?” He nudged John.

“How ‘bout a picnic under the nebula sky of Harista III. Ever seen it?”

“No, I haven’t,” Seb answered, “Is it far?”

“Other side of this quadrant, but your holodeck should be able to take us there.” John kissed his cheek. “Let’s go make that picnic.”

Seb dried off, and headed out to the kitchen via the labyrinth, with John following after he’d stopped off in their bedroom for clothes. He was more comfortable clothed than not, to Seb’s mild disappointment. “You wanna do this by hand, or have Spyder whip something up,” he hollered as as he heard John’s steps in the hall. 

“How are you feeling it?” asked John.

“If you’re not up for showing me what to do, I”m gonna have Spyder do it; it’s been years since I’ve cooked anything up.”

“I can show you. Just something simple.” John leaned in and kissed his cheek, talking him through fixing the meal.

Seb followed instructions; he was always so good at that. He fetched the foods John requested, and while John worked, he packed a few blankets, beers, dishes and flatware into a box. “Anything else?” he asked.

“That should be enough,” John gave him a smile. Sometimes he still missed what he’d lost, but Seb needed him, and that was fine. He felt like maybe they were mending each other, though John knew nothing he did could ever fix all the ways Seb had been broken and scarred.

Seb let John fill the basket with food, and carried it to the rec room. He let John call up the program in the holodeck, and John opened the door and let him go in first. He stopped, just steps into the deck, mouth partially open in surprise. He’d never seen anything so beautiful. “How’d you find this place?” he asked, impressed, eyes wandering over the vast sky. 

“We crashed on it one day,” said John, spreading out a blanket on the ground. “We’d taken some bad hits and went down. Were lucky enough to get picked up a couple days later without any deaths, but I never forgot the sky.” He leaned back on his hands and looked up.

The purple-blue sky was dominated by a cloudy nebula that looked close enough to touch. It was pinks and blues and soft green. Stars could been seen twinkling behind and around. A rough fragment of moon hung lopsided in the sky, giving off it’s own soft glow. The grass beneath them was red-green, a vast plain leaving the sky as the dominant feature.

“See why,” Seb agreed, sitting down, but not looking anywhere but up. He lay down, nestling his head in John’s lap, stealing a brief look and flashing a smile at John, before his eyes traced the skies again. “Not even sure what that color is called,” he pointed to a swirl like a wave coming off the nebula. 

“I’m not sure there’s a human word for it. The planet’s uninhabited, for the most part. When the moon got blasted so did most of the life. But it’s had a few centuries to grow wild again.”

Seb gave a huff of amusement; sounded a bit like himself. He fished out two sandwiches from the basket sight unseen, and held his hand out, “Sandwich?” he offered John, not wanting to move; he felt comfortable in John’s lap like this. 

“Sure, thank you.” John sat up a bit so he could stroke Seb’s hair while he ate.

Seb felt ravenous, and devoured the first sandwich before John’d finished half. He pulled out a second, knowing John had made several, and continued eating; and together, they were silent, eating and watching the sky. 

They sat, finishing their food, and laying together between the blankets. They shared a few stories back and forth, mostly good ones, neither really in the mood for anything more serious after the dimmed mood from when John came home. 

It didn’t take long for Seb to fall asleep under the sky, and John sat there just a while longer, before waking him up, and bringing them both back to bed.


	5. New Growth and Old Scores

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you popped in earlier, I apologise for the mix up! This chapter was accidentally posted as a repeat of Chapter 3, but now it is the proper Chapter 5 it should be. Enjoy!

The next week was mild and uneventful. Seb’s cold didn’t get any better, but it didn’t get any worse either. John worked; Seb busied himself about the flat. He was getting restless, and decided he needed a new project. He took to the office and began to design a new sniper rifle, printing out small pieces at a time to see how the functioned together. The current state of the sniper rifle was limited by the shifts between the vacuum of space, and the variety of planet atmospheres. If he could find a way to make a rifle work both in the vacuum of space and in the oxygen/nitrogen rich atmospheres that made up almost half his missions, he’d be able to remove one of the several weapons he had on board. It’d almost double the storage on his ship. The project was rather consuming, and he found himself frequently falling asleep at the desk. More than once, John found him slumped over the desk when he came to rouse Seb for dinner.

He resisted John’s attempts to get him to come to the clinic; but finally, one evening John found him slumped over the toilet instead of his desk, nauseous and unable to keep down anything but excessively weak tea.

The clinic was quiet, nobody else around at this hour save the night nurse. She’d given John a look, but hadn’t said anything as he brought Seb back.

“Just sit there,” said John, getting him in a chair and picking up his handheld scanner. He’d been increasingly worried about Seb, but at least now he had him where he could look at him properly.

“Don’t wanna do anything else,” Seb muttered, half groaning. “Just- can’t you give me something for nausea at least? I-” He didn’t get a chance to finish before dry heaving over a garbage bin. When nothing come out; he leaned back on the exam table, letting John do what he needed.

John had his eyes fixed on the scanner, but as he moved down Seb’s body he nearly dropped it. Biting his lip, he hit some buttons on the scanner. Slowly he let out a breath and turned the image to Seb. “You’re pregnant.”

Seb laughed, “Yeah, ‘cause I’m the Mummy type.” He looked up at John, who wasn’t laughing with him. He grew concerned, “You’re just joking, right? Cause I’m really not the mum type.”

“Look at the reading, Seb.”

“That’s- that’s gotta be a parasite or a worm or something. I can’t- I’ve- How is it possible?” Seb shook his head, “That- it’s not big enough to be anything. It can’t be.”

Seb’s mind was racing; how could he be pregnant? He’d been fucked for years without protection, by countless people of dozens of species, and he’d never been pregnant. What’d Jim been giving him? How had this not happened before?

John took his hand. “Well at least now we know.” He kissed Seb’s forehead and rummaged in a drawer. “Now that we know what’s going on, this should help the nausea.” He was a bit scared himself. Would Seb even want to keep it?

Seb looked down at the drug sample in his hand, sitting up, almost panicked. He went to stand, and was hit by another wave of nausea. “Fuck, can you get me a glass of water?”

“Of course.” John let go of his hand to fetch it, setting the scanner aside. “You don’t have to make any decisions right this second.”

Seb chugged the pills with the water, and set the glass down. “Decisions?” he asked, then nodded with sudden understanding. “Right.” Of course John wouldn’t want a kid with him. If he’d been John’s love, the man who’d left him, then maybe John would want a kid. But him? Now? There was no way any kid of his would be good enough for John. “Right.”

“Seb.” John took his hand again and met his eyes. “I’d be honored to have a child with you.”

“S’okay, Doc,” Seb shook his head, “I get it. I’m not who you really wanted, I know that. You don’t have to stick around. I won’t make you.”

“I mean it, Sebastian. I never thought I’d have any kids of my own, but I don’t mind. Assuming you want to keep the kid, I’d love to raise them with you.”

Seb nodded, “Yeah, okay. Cor.” He believed that John believed what he was saying, and he supposed that it was good enough. He’d never expected anything more, really. But was it enough? “I’m- I want to go home,” Seb answered.

He didn’t know what to do. But he was fucking tired, and he needed some sleep.

John put an arm around him and kissed his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”

-o-

Seb wrestled with himself for days; wondering if he could even be a fit parent. John seemed excited; maybe John’d be the best parent? He could leave, and John would be perfect. He was useless, aside from being the vessel to create life. He had absolutely no idea what normal could be, what it might look like, and how to mimic it for the sake of his child.

How the hell could he be a fit Pattri? Because that’s what he was; he’d let John run his DNA. He was just enough Retten to bear children, which meant instead of being a Mummy or a Daddy, he’d be a Pattri. How the fuck could he do that, when he couldn’t even walk into a goddamned bedroom?

Each day, he stood outside of the master bedroom, staring at the door. It was a trial of sorts for him, if he couldn’t enter the room, there was no way he could raise a child. The fourth day, he touched the door handle, and on the fifth day, he tried to enter from the master bath; the door he tried to forget existed.

It wasn’t until the tenth day, that he steeled his nerves, and, with eyes closed, pushed opened the door. He nearly panicked and tried to close the door, but with looking he couldn’t find the handle. He opened his eyes enough to find the door, but found himself shocked by the flash of green he’d seen. He looked again, and instead of the room he expected, he was blinded by life and water and all things living; something he’d never seen before. He stepped into the room, to look further; it had been entirely demolished. The room was rebuilt, in ways that looked nothing like the original. It was a _garden_. The chamber he was familiar with, he couldn’t even see in this room. The weapons, the tools, the torture devices all gone, and replaced with beauty, wildlife, flowers he’d never seen. It was brilliant and amazing and Seb couldn’t help walking in, step after step, into a jungle he’d never seen before.

It was as if it were a room he’d never been in; he could almost believe that none of the memories he'd had here ever existed. As though it had all occurred somewhere else. Seb found a hammock swinging from two luscious trees, tested its strength, then climbed in. The computer was set up nearby and Seb took an herbal tea, rocking back and forth, imaging what sorts of memories he might have here instead.

-o-

John rubbed his eyes and yawned as he walked in the door. “Spyder, where’s Seb?” he asked like usual. If Seb was busy working he generally left him alone.

“Sebastian is in the garden,” said Spyder.

His eyes lit up. He’d taught Spyder to remove the term master bedroom and replace it with garden. And it seemed like Seb had finally entered it. He pushed open the door to find his lover dozing lightly in the hammock.

“Sebastian,” he said softly, crossing to him and taking a seat on the closest bench.

It took a few nudges, but Seb finally woke in the hammock. He startled, spilling the tea down his trousers, and gasped. “John! Fuck! You scared the shit out of me.”

He laid back in the hammock, “So, how was work?”

“Good. Long.” John leaned down and sucked on a wet spot on Seb’s trousers. “I’m glad to see you.” _In here,_ he didn’t add.

“Didn’t realise I had a garden,” Seb commented, purposefully not acknowledging the original room, nor the effort John had clearly put into the room. He couldn’t address it directly, but he could let John know he appreciated it. “Shame, too. Has a gorgeous view.”

“I’m glad you like it. Mind if I join you?” John climbed into the hammock next to Seb and rest his head on the taller man’s chest, letting his hand fall on the small bit of baby bump.

“You never thought you’d have a kid, but you’d always wanted one, yeah?” Seb muttered against John’s hair. He decided, even if he couldn’t do this himself, that no matter what, John would be great dad. He wanted to be a father and Seb couldn’t take that away from him.

“Kind of, yeah. I mean, I knew I couldn’t carry, and the one I was with before, he couldn’t either, not that we ever discussed it.”

“The one before. You were in love with him,” Seb said, without judgment.

John sighed. “Yes. But then he left. Without a word. So. Evidently it didn’t go both ways.”

“Rarely does,” Seb commented, and it was true, in his limited experience. Once upon a time he’d fancied himself in love with Jim, but he’d since learned how wrong he was. “But I’ll be happy to be a facsimile,” he confessed, “More than someone like me could hope for.”

“You deserve love too you know.” John stroked his belly. “And not just because you’re carrying our child.”

“It has nothing to do with what I, or anyone else, deserves,” Seb answered. People deserved nothing, and fortune was a fluke, a chance event. He was okay with that. “But I’m glad that I can give you what you’ve always wanted. Gives me purpose, and fuck knows I haven’t had enough of that. Just promise me, John, that you’ll care for the kid. That nothing will deter you, that nothing’ll change your mind.” Seb sighed, “I’m not sure I can be the best Pattri, but I know you can be a good father. If you can’t do it, let me know, ‘cause I can’t do it on my own.”

“I’m looking forward to it, Seb. And you will never have to raise this child on your own.”

“I know. You’re too good of a man for that,” Seb assured him, failing to mention that if it came down to it, Seb would leave John the child. “But thank you; the promise is reassuring.”

John kissed Seb, a bit troubled, but hoping that Seb would come to love their child anyway, even if they’d never meant to bring them to life.

-o-

A week or so later, John came in and heard a familiar voice in the den, talking to Seb. Frowning, he walked towards the sound.

“Sebastian, dear,” the feminine voice coerced, “I’ve had loads of clients inquire about you. They miss you. You were so sturdy, so solid; they love how much you can handle. Why not come work for me? You’ll make your own money, now,” she offered.

Seb glared at Irene Adler, “You knew I’d never been working for my own money before. Why should I believe you now?”

“Please, Sebastian,” she dismissed, “you knew Jim. It wasn’t as though I could go against him.” Her voice fluttered, but Seb knew it was all an act. “But now? You can demand whatever you want. You were so… _solid_ before. Could take anything. I have a number of clients looking for that again. You could be rich!”

“I’m already rich,” Seb answered irritably. “I don’t want your help, I don’t want your money. Besides, I’m fucking pregnant. Certainly not going to help you now.”

“Oh, but Sebby, darling, we’ve such a market for that!” the voice exclaimed, and John was so sure he’d heard it before, but not sure why.

“No,” Seb answered flatly. “Get out of my flat. Jim’s fucking dead. You can’t sway me anymore. Get. Out.”

John came around the corner and his eyes widened. “Irene Adler?” It wasn’t really a question. He knew that face, and of course, the reputation of the brothel owner. Wait, had she said _Jim?_

“Get. out,” Seb ordered again. He wasn’t sure why John knew her name, but knew no good could come of it.

“Oooh!” Irene exclaimed, “This is your lover boy. How fascinating. I wonder if they’d approve? Mycroft surely wouldn’t; I’m assuming he doesn’t know?” She glanced at the stricken looks between Seb and John.

“Oh!” She smiled wickedly, “You don’t even know, do you? I imagine you have loads to talk about.” She laughed, and winked at Seb. “I’m always here, if you change your mind.”

She sashayed out the door as though she owned the placed, leaving Seb confused in her wake. “You know her?” he asked John.

“We went up against her once,” said John. He looked at Seb. “ _Jim_?"

“ _We_?” Seb asked, in the same tone John had given him.

John took a breath and crossed to a chair, sitting down. “Sherlock and I.” It was the first time he’d mentioned his name in Seb’s presence.

Seb shut down. It was undeniably visible, and his eyes clamped shut. He spoke softly, “You should probably leave, for now.” He didn’t want the baby to come to harm. Even if John refused to care for it, he’d rather it be adopted than slaughtered with him, should John decide Seb needed to die for his transgressions.

John may not have been as clever as Sherlock Holmes, but even he could put two and two together. “The man who abused you was Jim Moriarty. Sherlock and Moriarty both died a bit more than a year ago. Which was why were both in the bar that day looking for something strong.” He remained seated and his voice was soft.

“You can kill me if you want,” Seb answered, “But just wait for the child? It did nothing wrong.”

“I’m not going to kill you, Sebastian.” John walked towards him and knelt in front of him. “I know that Jim used and abused you. I didn’t know that then, but I know that now. And I forgive you, Seb.” John touched his hand, looking up at his lover and the mother of his child.

Seb drew his hand away. “You forgive _me_?” he asked incredulously, enraged. John had no idea what Sherlock Holmes had done to him. If anything, John should be the one begging for forgiveness.

“Always him,” Seb cursed, “never me.” It angered him, and he felt an urge to cast John out, to make him bleed, but he didn’t. “Never me,” he growled, and pushed John away. He left the room, snapping, “Don’t,” at John as he tried to follow him. Seb disappeared into a third bedroom, one he’d shared with neither Jim nor John, and screamed in anger into the mattress.

How stupid was he to think he mattered? How stupid, worthless, everything Jim ever told him, how pathetic was he, to still exist? After all this time, and he was still nothing compared to Sherlock _fucking_ Holmes. He should have eliminated himself when it was clear Jim hadn’t survived.

There was no point to him; he realised that now, aside from the vessel he provided. He could live in solitude; give the child up to John. Regardless of how he felt towards John, Seb trusted that John’d care for their offspring.

John stared after him, wondering what he’d done, wondering if he’d ruined his one chance at finding happiness. And he had been happy with Seb, or at least content. He’d been able to see a future again, a life, raising their child together.

Running a hand through his hair, John called up a program on the computer to write:

_Seb,_

_I can’t pretend to know the truth of what happened. Between you and Jim, between you and Sherlock. If you don’t or can’t tell me I understand. If you want me to move back out, I understand. But these weeks with you have been wonderful. You’ve been a light in my darkness, an anchor, a home. I’m willing to do whatever I need to to keep that. Not just for our child, but for you. It’s you I want, Sebastian, not a ghost._

_John._

“Spyder, send this to Seb,” said John. He looked at the bedroom door, then went into the garden and curled up alone in the hammock, his heart aching and resisting the urge to go hide in a bottle. Maybe he should have taken up his service weapon when he knew Sherlock wouldn’t be coming back. He’d hoped he’d helped Seb, but maybe now he’d just made everything worse. As stupid as his father always told him he was.

-o-

Seb heard the message notification, but ignored it. He had too much to think about. He cursed the very name of Sherlock Holmes; the things Jim had done to him with that man’s name on his lips, or worse, hadn’t done. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten half the scars and marks on his body, but he remembered every single one that was given to him when Jim had Sherlock on his mind.

He had been, and still was, so _angry;_ how could Jim love Sherlock more than him? He’d given everything to Jim, done everything he asked. Laid down and bled at his feet, and Jim still loved Sherlock more.

Jim used to love him. He’d let Seb eat dinner with him, lay in bed with him once his bleeding had stopped, praise him for how well he could take Jim’s punishments. He’d done everything right. But a man like Jim? Someone so brilliant, so fantastic? No wonder he’d become bored with Seb. He needed someone better, smarter, a challenge. He’d already tamed Seb years ago.

As Jim’s empire grew, and as he started paying attention the Holmes’, he paid less attention to Seb. And somehow, the neglect was worse than the abuse. Seb took to acting out; actively disobeying Jim, and revelled in the beatings he received as a result. At least it was he and Jim, alone and together. It didn’t take Jim long to realise what Seb's intent. As Sherlock became more interesting, Jim’s devotions shifted, and he frequently dragged Seb to Irene’s, just to be rid of him. And though no one was ever as creative as Jim, the pain felt so much worse when it wasn’t Jim at the other end.

Seb felt the familiar sensations of hyperventilation and panic rising within his chest, as the images flashed before him. He could feel each lash, each cut as they came to mind, and his mind clawed to escape his body. With an ease that was far too practiced, Seb allowed his consciousness to float away; not entirely sure how long he’d be gone.  

-o-

John fell asleep in the hammock. When he woke, he asked Spyder where Seb was. He frowned at the answer and got up, asking if Seb’d opened the message. He hadn’t done that either. John went down to the door and knocked. No answer, so he opened it up. “Seb?”

His lover was lying in bed, very still. So still that John’s heart stopped in his chest until he realized Seb was breathing. Stepping forward he picked up Seb, knowing that he’d done this, that he’d sent Seb into this state.

He held Seb close to his chest and carried back to the bedroom that they’d shared, laying him down curling up around him, crying softly. Out of grief, out of fear, out of helplessness.


	6. Touch and Go

When Seb returned, he found himself having moved, and wasn’t sure if he’d come to the bedroom himself or if John had found him. The clock showed it was already morning and Seb assumed it was the next day; John should be at work. 

“Spyder, status,” he ordered. 

“Ten thirty six, on the sixteenth. All functions normal and operating. John is in the sitting room. You have one unread message.”

Right; he’d gotten an incoming message after storming out on John. He pulled it up, and read the short note. 

_ Fuck. _ He was such an arsehole. John hadn’t deserved that. John wasn’t Sherlock, wasn’t Jim. He hadn’t even thought how John might feel, seeing him zoned out like that. He was such a fucking tosser, putting that on John. 

He ordered up breakfast from the kitchen, dry toast and weak tea was all he could stomach in the mornings anymore. He sent John a quick reply.

_ I’m back. We can talk, if you want. _

It could be up to John if he was ready to talk or not. 

John was curled up in the sitting room, staring at the fire and sipping tea just on the cusp of going cold. He looked at the message, “Tell Seb to come here, please?”

As Spyder delivered the message, Seb nodded. It was only fair, he supposed. He switched out his clothes; feeling dirty and used in the ones he slept in. A result of the memories rushing back, he was sure. He grabbed his breakfast and slowly made his way to the sitting room. 

He saw John, in a chair by the corner, and  _ damnit, _ if Seb didn’t already hate himself enough. John was exhausted, he hadn’t slept, that much was clear. He looked weak, delicate, vulnerable; all things Seb knew he wasn’t. That he could reduce John to this? 

“Sorry,” he said, his voice gruff from disuse. As he sat down, he continued, “Didn’t mean to scare you; just needed to get out for a bit.”

John put his cup aside. “You  _ never _ have to apologize to me,” he said with some force. Seb looked worn out. They’d both been emotionally battered.

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, “Then why’d you have to forgive me?” He cringed, looking away from John. He’d meant to pacify and placate John, not antagonise him. “Sorr-” he caught himself, “ _ Shit! _ ” 

He shoved the toast in his mouth before he could fuck up further.

John shook his head. He slipped from his chair and knelt at Seb’s feet, rest his head against his knee. “I wasn’t thinking,” he said softly. “Can you forgive me?”

“You didn’t do anything,” Seb shrugged, once he swallowed. “Not your fault.” He reached out slowly, and when John didn’t pull away, or stop him, he ran his fingers through John’s hair. “Anything you want to know?”

“I don’t know what to ask. I only know that you, being with you, has given me a reason to go on. That this child of ours gives me hope.” He leaned into Seb’s touch.

“Hope?” Seb asked. He wasn’t sure what John was expecting from this kid. How did you get hope from a baby? Seb  _ hoped  _ John wouldn’t turn into Jim, he  _hoped_ John would love the kid, he  _hoped_ he wouldn’t fuck this kid up. He wasn’t sure what John meant beyond that.

“Hope that my life isn’t just a waste,” said John quietly. “Hope that we can make a family.”

“ _ Your  life? _ " Seb scoffed in disbelief. “You’re a fucking doctor. You can’t tell me you haven’t saved lives. Loads of ‘em, I’ll bet. And I know the shit you and Holmes got up to; crazy, but you were always trying-” A sudden thought occurred to him. 

He paused, a wave of nausea threatening him, though this time he wasn’t sure if it was the baby or the realisation, “It was you. You shot Hope. The transport tech.”

John pulled back as if he’d been burned. He didn’t dare meet Seb’s eyes as he nodded. “Do you want me to leave?”

Seb barked out a coarse laugh to cover his retch. “Don’t care about Hope, he’s not the point. Just- afterwards, is all. Bad memory.” What he could remember, anyways. Jim had beaten him within an inch of his life; most of which he’d blocked out, but he hadn’t forgotten begging the doctor Jim'd hired to just let him die, to let him bleed out. Nor the look in the doctor’s eyes when he had to say no.

Seb took a sip of tea, hoping to calm his stomach. He rubbed his face. “Just know I might leave again,” he gestured to his head with a flicking motion. “Normally, it isn’t too hard to stick around, but when the memories get too real, I gotta take a break. You can just leave me be, wherever I am. I might walk about, but I won’t hurt no one.”

“If that’s what you need me to do.” John kept his head bowed and folded his hands in his lap as he knelt. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“Doubt you even knew I existed,” Seb dismissed, “Like I said, not your fault. It’s just easier to see how fucked up I am when there is someone else around. Never really learned normal social shit.” He looked down at John and flinched, “And get your arse up here; don’t sit like that in front of me. Or the chair, or whatever, just not that.”

John climbed up into Seb’s lap and curled up, leaning against him.

“I can do this,” Seb muttered against John’s head, feeling a small push against the rising anxiety in his chest; it was amazing how just being with John like this could help. “Course, not for much longer, won’t have a lap at all in a few months.”

“Well. I’ll still be here, as long as you want me.”

-o-

Their life, more or less, continued as it had before the damning realisation, which, given the intensity of the revelation, was almost absurd. But neither John nor Seb saw any reason to give up on what they’d started to build, simply because the curtains of their past had opened.

Both Jim and Sherlock had sacrificed their loyalty when they’d chosen each other and the comfort of death. In fact, Seb was slightly pleased; laying with Sherlock’s lover was a fitting ‘fuck you’ to the man who had tried to destroy him. 

Seb slowly allowed himself to feel as though this were their flat, not Jim’s. John had helped him reclaim the master bedroom, so there was no need to use the labyrinth to reach the master bath. Which was a fucking blessing, because as Seb grew rounder, he found comfort floating in a daily bath. He’d taken to reading up on his Retten physiology, what pregnancy, birth, pattrihood would be like. Well, more that Spyder read to him, but he devoured it. It wasn’t dissimilar to a job; researching every aspect; trying to figure out where he’d fit in.

“Hey,” Seb greeted John as he came home one afternoon. “Haven’t been sick for a week. Steak and potatoes tonight?” He’d stuck to softer foods after a bad experience getting sick a few weeks prior, and was desperate for some real food.

“Sounds good to me.” John kissed him and rest a hand on his belly.

“Good, ‘cause I’ve already programmed it in. I set it for about twenty minutes from now; not sure when you’d be home,” Seb answered, returning the kiss. “I’ll go get dressed.” John had insisted on a strict ‘no eating naked at the table’ rule, and Seb supposed it wasn’t unreasonable. He threw on a t-shirt and kilt, glaring at the shirt where it was starting to stretch around his belly. 

He went back out and complained, “When this shit doesn’t fit anymore, can we lift the no eating naked rule? Seems stupid to buy new clothes just to eat dinner in.”

“But you’ll look lovely.”

“I’m gonna look like a beach ball either way,” Seb groused. “Besides, most clothes are made for women; men only have a handful of options. Especially in places Homo Sapien heavy, like this fucking ship. I’ve looked at what’s available here; it’s not much.” Seb sat back at the table. “So, how was your day, honey?” he smirked.

“Not that exciting. And I may have ordered you some things. They should be here soon.”

“Damnit,” Seb deadpanned. “Fine. I’ll wear clothes at the dinner table like a civilised person,” he rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. “The things I do for you, Doc.”

“But you’re beautiful,” grinned John.

“So why do you want to cover it up?” Seb teased. 

“Something to accent your beauty.”

“Fuck off,” Seb answered without heat, but felt exposed, as he always did when the subject of his scars  _ didn’t _ come up. Instead, he focused on dinner, which had finally appeared in front of them. He took a bite of steak and moaned; the taste was exquisite; he’d missed it so. 

John chuckled and squeezed his knee under the table, once again glad for what they had.

Seb was quiet, just enjoying his food for a while, then spoke up again. “You know what’s shit? How we’ve evolved millions of years, and not a single damned humanoid species has figured out how to make this process,” he pointed to the bump, “faster than forty fucking weeks.”

“Well, it takes time to make anything.”

“Yeah, and your part took what? Ten minutes to fucking make?” Seb stabbed a piece of steak. “Least I can eat real food now.”

“I’m sorry if you’re miserable.”

“No, just bitching,” Seb said. “Have to do it while you’re here, else I’m just talking to myself. It’s not fun, but it ain’t too bad.”

“Do you want to learn the gender?”

“Dunno,” Seb shrugged. “Do you?”

“I don’t mind. We can figure out names.”

“You have names in mind?” Seb asked. He’d only come up with a few because the books had mentioned it; he wasn’t sure if he would’ve thought to do so without prompting.

“I’m not sure. You?”

“Nothing I’m attached to. The books said to think of some, so I did. Terra, Jude, Caelum, Ophelia. Picked two of each. Don’t know if they’re any good or not.”

"I like Ophelia."

“Book says they’re supposed to mean something, if you want to pick something else,” Seb offered; he figured John would be less likely to fuck this up.

"Naw. I like it." John kissed him. 

Seb gave a small, genuine smile, “That mean we need a boy’s name too, or you just want to check if it’s a girl first?”

“Let’s see if it’s a girl first.”

“Can you do it, or can the doctor come here? Or do I have to go to their office?” Seb asked, in between bites.

“I can do it. Let me go get my scanner.”

“Finish dinner first,” Seb pointed his fork at John’s plate. “Babe’ll still be there in twenty.”

“If you insist.”

“Oh, it’s your rules, Doc. Can’t take my shirt off at the table,” Seb chuckled.

John laughed. “Fair enough.”

-o-

Once dinner was finished and the table cleared, Seb looked to John, “Where do you want to do this?”

“Do you want to do it in the garden?”

“Can I sit on the knoll by water? Or will that fuck with the scanner?”

“No, it’ll be fine. I might have to take a picture of you too.”

“Why?” Seb asked, not sure what medical relevance that might have.

“Because you’re beautiful,” said John, leaning in to kiss him. “I’ll see you there.”

" _ That _ line again,” Seb rolled his eyes, giving John a playful smile, stripping off his shirt as he walked to the garden. He loved the little knoll; when he sat there, he couldn’t see a single trace of what the room had been before. He sat, then laid on his back in the soft grass, one arm under his head, and the other wrapped around his belly. It was warm, and he was full, and he closed his eyes, listening to the water, waiting for John to arrive.

John took a picture as he stepped into the room. He carried the scanner with him and sat by his lover, kissing his belly before picking up the scanner.

Seb opened one eye to peer at John, fond of the affection John showed the kid. “Still don’t know what you’re gonna do with a picture of me,” Seb said, moving his hands out of the way so John could get a clear scan.  

“Treasure it.” He watched the scanner, smiling softly. “Girl. Our little Ophelia.” He leaned in and kissed him, fondling his swollen breasts.

“You sure?” Seb asked, then gasped as John brushed his thumb over Seb’s nipple. “Fuck, that’s sensitive!”

“Yes.” He leaned down and fastened his mouth over a nipple.

“Christ!” Seb arched into John’s touch with a moan. “Didn’t- thought that- shit, do that again,” Seb requested, the feeling jolting straight to his cock.

John did it again, flicking his tongue over the nub.

Seb threaded his fingers through John’s hair, then drifted down to untuck his shirt from his trousers. “You wear too many clothes,” he complained.

John pulled back long enough to pull his shirt over his head, then went back to Seb’s nipples.

Seb ran his hand down John’s back, and used his other hand to pull John up for a bruising kiss. When they broke apart, Seb pressed his forehead to John’s. He had so much he wanted to say, but nothing came out; he just looked into John’s eyes, before pulling him back into another kiss. 

John groaned against him and pushed down his trousers, needing Seb, needing his lover in him or on him or  _ anything. _

Seb growled his pleasure, manipulating them so that John was between his legs. The kilt was bunched up around his hips, and with the gentle slope of the hill, John would be easily able to tease at Seb’s nipples as he fucked him. 

John moved between his legs, pulling out lube and fingering Seb, and going back to his nipples.

“Fucking hell, Doc,” Seb panted, the sudden onslaught of pleasure both unexpected and desperately craved, “Just like that.”

John grinned and nipped at his skin, pulling away his fingers so he could press into his lover.

Seb spread his legs wide for John, feeling the stretch as John slid in, opening his arse on that gorgeous fucking cock of his. He’d say one thing for being pregnant; once he’d stopped feeling nauseous all the time, the sex was brilliant. Everything was heightened, sensitive, spectacular, and Seb couldn’t control the groans and grunts John rocked out of him. 

John loved the way Seb moved underneath him. “Mine, Seb.” John groaned.

“More,” Seb begged, hands on John where he could reach him, pulling him in, feeling John deep inside; the way it felt when John was pressed tight against him, sheathed completely. Seb reached down, letting John’s thrusts shove his own cock into his fist. 

“You’re so hot,” muttered John.

“Shut up and fuck me,” Seb answered, a jovial tone to his voice, but not wanting to hear more. He was more scar tissue than not, and didn’t need the reminder; despite knowing John was completely sincere. Or maybe that’s what made it worse, he wasn’t sure. 

John kissed him, taking him harder.

Seb trembled beneath him, and just as John scraped his teeth across Seb’s nipple, he came, come spattered over his belly and dripping down his hand onto the kilt.

“Christ,” groaned John, following him over.

Seb could feel each pulse of John’s cock, filling him. John sighed contentedly, pulling out, and laying down beside him on the grass. “That was-” Seb stopped short. He waited a moment, then laughed with joy. He grabbed John’s hand, and pressed it hard against his belly, just to the left of his navel. 

“You feel that?” he asked, voice filled with awe.

John’s eyes went wide. “She’s kicking.”

“Yeah,” Seb laughed again, “Yeah. That’s ours. Our Ophelia.” 


	7. Live and Breathe

The next several months felt as though they had stretched into years, but finally the time came. John held Seb’s hand as the doctors worked over him to bring their daughter out. He was a bit glad they’d drugged Seb as he was pretty sure he’d have been punched by now otherwise.

Seb hadn’t wanted surgery, but after forty-two hours of contractions and no baby in sight, he’d finally relented. He hated to leave his bath, the weightlessness of the water helping ease his pain, but he, John, and the midwife teleported straight to labor and delivery, and he’d been able to get a spinal before the next contraction hit. Within minutes, he was blessing modern medicine; and within ten more, Ophelia made her first cry. 

“Our daughter,” said John, tears in his eyes. “Seb, we have a daughter.”

“Go to her, you berk,” Seb pushed him away, towards where the nurse was swaddling her. “And bring her here so I can see her!” his voice boomed through the small operating room, and the doctor laughed. 

“Now, there’s a Pattri,” they laughed. 

Seb smiled, at least his  _ first  _ instinct hadn’t been wrong. “She look like me or you?” Seb asked, as John approached with their daughter.

“Not sure, what do you think?”

Tiny steel blue eyes peered out at him, and Seb spoke soft and low, “Hey, love, got your Daddy’s eyes, there, don’t you?” He looked up at John, whose eyes were wet, “Bring her closer; let me kiss her before you take her.”

He leaned towards her as best he could, smelling her, something primal unfurling in him, and kissed her gently on the forehead.

“This way, Mr. Watson,” one of the nurses beckoned him, “Mr. Moran will be along as soon as the surgery is completed.”

“I’ll go do a final check on the nursery,” he promised Seb.

It took another half hour to sew him back up, and they wheeled him back to the recovery room, where John and Ophelia were waiting for him. Immediately, he gathered his daughter his in arms, and watched as she seemed to hunt her way down his chest, looking for milk. 

Seb laughed again; joyful and happy, and it was a sound he still wasn’t used to hearing from himself. The doctor came into check on them a bit later, explaining that it appeared that the labor had stalled due to some internalised scarring. It dimmed Seb’s glow, to feel Jim’s impact even here, but then Ophelia opened her eyes and looked at him, and all the joy came rushing back to him. 

John grinned to see Seb so happy. He kissed Seb’s forehead, watching as Ophelia drank.

“This is really fucking weird, Doc,” Seb looked down at her. “Can’t even describe it.”

In an hour or two, they were moved to a patient room, and Seb handed Ophelia back over to John. The adrenaline and hormones that had kept him awake for the last two days were wearing off, and he was near passing out. “Wake me,” he instructed, “When she gets hungry again.” And within moments of handing her off, Seb was asleep. 

-o-

They went home two days later. John gave Seb a careful shower while Ophelia slept. “We did it, Seb, we’ve got our daughter.”

“Can barely believe they’d let someone like me transport out of the hospital with a fucking infant,” Seb muttered, enjoying the way John was delicately cleaning every inch of him. It’d been near non-stop with Ophelia, and this was the first chance he’d had to clean since she’d been born. John tenderly traced the new scar adorning his body, and Seb found himself surprisingly grateful for the surgery; it had left a scar with a  _happy_ memory.

John helped him out and dried him. “Why don’t you get some more sleep? I’ll feed Ophelia if she wakes.”

“Thank god for that,” Seb chuckled tiredly. John had convinced him to splurge on a milk replicator. One drop of his own milk, and it’d make an exact match until it received another drop to analyse. Since the composition of milk varied from feeding to feeding, let alone from day to day or week to week, it meant it was the absolute best way for John to feed Phee while Seb kept his sanity. 

“Go to bed, love. We’ll be waiting for you.”

Seb dropped as soon as his head hit the pillow, and felt as though he woke just minutes later, but when he looked at the clock, six hours had passed. He jumped up, then grimaced; his pain meds had clearly worn off. 

“Spyder, where’s Ophelia?” Seb demanded, and was relieved to hear “Ophelia’s vital signs imply that she is asleep, with John, in the holodeck.” 

Seb walked to the rec room, the pain an annoyance more than anything else, given his tolerance. He looked at the program John was running; a simulation of his home planet; one he’d must have kept over all these years. 

He’d never shown Seb, so he didn’t feel comfortable interrupting their father-daughter time. He instead fetched his own pills, a tall glass of water, updated the replicator, and looked at his new scar in the mirror, gently caressing it, reveling in it. He called out to Spyder, “Seafood omelet with crab, lobster, shrimp, Brie and a hollandaise sauce. With a fucking Evest’c Imperial Ale. Make it two, one for John if he wants, or I’ll eat it later.”

He sat in the kitchen, reading a new book; on Retten hybrid infants and how their infants differ. The meal appeared at this right, and he set down the book, taking a few moments to savour the first bite, and the one after that. All the things he’d been denied for months. He almost devoured it before he paused, waiting to enjoy the last few bites. He sipped his beer, and flipped a page. 

He set his beer down as he re-read that last paragraph. Huh. He’d have to warn John about that. He’d never known it; orphaned as young as he was, taken into a wayward clan of adolescents of varying hybrids. They hadn’t know what was personality and what was genetics. And as it would happen, full blooded Rettens had little use for pain. The book cautioned that pain tolerance was directly correlated to Retten DNA, and Retten DNA was often a dominant trait over Homo Sapien DNA. Which could lead to Homo Sapien specific illness that were uncaught because they relied so heavily on pain identification. 

Explained a lot about himself, that’s for sure. He highlighted the text and had Spyder send it to John, in case he forgot to mention it. 

Maybe, when Jim said Seb was fucking perfect for him, that he might have been right. Was that why he’d been chosen? That why he’d lasted so long, why Jim was so cruel, why he was so sure that Seb’d be fine, lash after lash? 

Cut after cut. 

He watched the blood well over his arms, could feel it nearly pour down his back.  And Jim, ever the saviour, ever Seb’s protector, would bring out the cauterising gun and burn the gushing wounds shut. It was the closest Seb could come to imagining Hell. His veins were on fire and he screamed and he screamed and he could smell his flesh burning and he couldn’t take it. It was too much; he burrowed deep and escaped. 

John came out of the holodeck hungry for supper. He came to kitchen and found Seb sitting very, very still. Which meant he'd gone into his mind. 

"Seb." John held their daughter and squeezed his hand. "Seb come back,"

“Too much blood,” Seb muttered, eyes glossy and out of focus, “Burns. All my fault. My fault. Disobedient. Needed to be punished. My fault. All of them. My fault. I’m sorry, Jim, I’ll be better.” Seb dropped to his knees, still completely gone, acting on nothing more than autopilot. 

Ophelia started to fuss. Still holding her, John knelt down and kissed Seb gently. “I’m here Seb. You’re not there.”

It was Phee’s whimper that snapped him back, so hard he fell over. “Christ, I’m sorry, Phee,” he scrambled up to take hold of her. He laid her against his chest, apologising over and over, and he turned to John and snapped, “She shouldn’t see me like that!”

"She's an infant. She won't remember. Are you okay?"

Seb took a deep breath, and another, inhaling the scent from Phee’s head. “Didn’t mean to yell at you like that. Not your fault.” He cradled Phee, letting her calm him down, and cooed softly at her, “Sorry if Pattri frightened you, he just had to go away for a little bit.”

John kissed the top of his head, wondering what had set Seb off but not wanting to ask. 

It was interesting, to Seb at least, how much he enjoyed inhaling Phee’s scent and how it calmed him. He’d read that there were pheromones or hormones involved, but he hadn’t really believed it; seemed all a bit hocus-pocus for his tastes. He went to mention it to John, and saw the question in his eyes. 

“I sent you some text from one of the books, something we’ll need to make sure we keep on eye on. You can probably guess how things went downhill from there once you read it,” Seb explained, as much as he was going to. “So, what were you showing her in the holodeck?” he asked, trying to change the topic. 

"Showing Phee my home world. It's not much to look at."

“Bet you told her some great stories, though,” Seb grinned, and looked down at Ophelia, who was staring at him as he spoke. 

“She likes hearing your voice too.”

“Yeah, she’s used to it; like my heartbeat,” Seb agreed. Then he frowned. “How am I gonna take care of her if I slip out like that? Fuck, I’m too unstable to keep an eye on her, ain’t I?”

"Not at all. It's been happening less."

“It’s only gotta be once,” Seb disagreed, a new sort of panic rising in his chest; one he’d never felt before. “She could starve. Once she gets moving, she could fall, drown, break her fucking head open,  _ fuck, _ why didn’t I think about this before?!”

"It's okay Seb. She's fine. We're fine."

“Yeah, until you go back to work,” Seb answered, “We have to work something out. I mean, do my vitals change? Can we program Spyder to recognise it when it happens?” He was pacing the kitchen, bouncing slowly as Ophelia’s eyes drooped in his arms. 

"Probably can, yeah." John leaned in to kiss him.

“Next time it happens, scan me first. See if we can find what’s different. Then I can program Spyder, and she can call you if it happens again. Then it’s just a few minutes, not hours, that Phee’s not being watched,” Seb insisted. He couldn’t let his own fucking problems harm Phee, he’d die, he’d fucking leave first. She was the only good in this world he’d ever done, and he’d be damned if he tainted her.  

“Okay, I promise. No harm will come to either of you, I swear it.”

-o-

It took two months, but they finally had a system in place that Seb felt comfortable using. His escapes only happened every few weeks, and were considerably less common when he was focused on his little girl. John was called twice from his office, and was able to comfortably and easily bring Seb back; he’d had enough practice at this point. In fact, most times occurred after she was down for a nap; he knew Seb was worried over nothing, but with his past; it was par for the course. John’d spend an extra half hour to make sure Seb was steady, then head back off to work. 

As Phee grew bigger, with great toothless smiles and a sparkle in her eye Seb was sure he’d never had, Seb found his days were starting to become routine. He’d set Phee on his lap as he designed the last phases of the dual atmosphere sniper rifle; but as the program was unique to his signature, she could see it, touch it, bat at it, but nothing changed unless it was his fingers doing the talking. He talked aloud almost the entire time, knowing the words themselves meant nothing yet, but the more she heard, the better. It wasn’t as though he ever left the flat for her to hear anyone else talk. So he talked and read to her constantly, and programmed Spyder to do the same. 

John smiled as he came home and found Seb had dinner ready. “Thank you,” he smiled, hugging his daughter as she reached for him. He was comfortable, in a way he never thought he’d be with a family. Sometimes he missed the bit of danger, sometimes he missed the man, but that was in his past. Seb and Phee were his future and he had to be content with that.

“After supper, I was thinking maybe we could take Phee and use the holodeck.”

“Any place specific?” Seb asked, tucking Phee into her chair. 

“Thought maybe I’d show you where I’m from, if you’d like.”

“Can show you mine, too; it’s not pretty, but it’d give you an idea. We’d have to dial it down a touch from active to passive, though. I know you can’t really get hurt in the holodeck, but I don’t feel like being shot at today.” Seb clapped his hands over their meal, “So, dinner, then a nostalgia tour?”

“Sounds like a plan. Phee will probably fall asleep in the middle of it.”

“Then we’ll just get to know each other just a bit better, won’t we?” Seb smiled at his plate, taking a bite. “Know we’re not big on the past, but might help us get better at this shit; help if Phee starts asking questions in a few years.”

“Yeah. I know neither of us like looking back. I’m glad for you and Phee though.”

“What do you mean?” Seb asked.

“Just. I’m glad you’re both in my life.”

Seb gave a bashful grin, “Oh. Kinda partial to you myself.”

Dinner was less than a quiet affair. The kitchen had delivered Phee’s fresh puree, and John attempted to feed her, while she was more interesting in grabbing the spoon, her bib, her lips, and essentially anything other than opening her mouth for food. 

John finally got fed up, cleaned her off with a flannel, and passed her to Seb, who was able to easily placate her with milk. John tossed his hands up in mock exasperation, but Seb just chuckled. 

The butler tidied after they were finished, and Seb stood, Phee cradled against his chest, though she could now sit up in his arms and look around. She reached to John with a babbled “Ba!” and Seb let her fall into his hands; she hadn’t seen him all day. 

John kissed the top of her head and led the way to the holodeck. He pushed a few buttons. “So, this is one of the nicer spots,” he said leading the way inside.

The city was crumbling, dirty and busy. But they were standing in a tiny bit of green space, sheltered on three sides by tall buildings that also muted some of the noise of the city around them.

“Not bad,” Seb complimented, “Nice little garden here. You play here a lot?”

“Yeah. Or I came to get away from my Dad.” He gestured behind them at a gap in the fence that covered the fourth side. “He never found this place.”

“Tell us a story,” Seb asked, Phee wrapped happily in a cloth tied around his waist. “Can I let her crawl?” he asked, not knowing if the ground was safe, or littered with broken glass, roaches, drugs remnants.

“Let me just sweep the grass,” said John, calling up the control panel and hitting a couple buttons. “Go ahead. What kind of story do you want?”

“Tell us a story, about when you were the hero,” Seb smiled, nestling himself onto the grass, Phee gurgling happily as Seb lifted her out of the cloth wrap and set her on the ground. 

John chuckled and sat next to them, Seb’s head in his lap and he stroked his hair as he told him a story about protecting a dog from a street gang.

Phee crawled on top of them, giggling, and Seb let John’s voice wash over him, as he always did. He listened well, tossing Phee in the air gently as she laughed with unbridled glee. At the end of John’s story, he set Phee down, grabbed John by the neck and brought him in for a kiss. “My hero,” he murmured against John’s lips. 

John’s heart ached as he kissed him back. “Thanks.”

“Want to walk around a bit more? Your house? School? Friends?” Seb asked. 

“We don’t have to. There really isn’t much here for me. I never had many friends.”

“Anything you want Doc. I like seeing it; lets me know a bit more about you. Such a closed book most of the time.” Seb kissed him again, “Don’t have to though. I can pull mine up if you’d rather.”

“Here, we can walk around the neighborhood I guess,” he said, getting to his feet and picking Phee up over her protests.

“Tell me what I’m looking at,” Seb asked. “This a mostly Homo Sapien planet? Hybrid? Or something else?”

“Homo Sapien. Was founded as a mining colony ages ago and that’s still mostly what it is now.” He led the way out of the lot. “My house is just down here. My dad worked in the mines until he got hurt and couldn’t work any more.”

“That when it got bad?” Seb assumed. He didn’t want for an answer, just looked about the environment John had grown up in. It wasn’t terribly dissimilar than his own, if just a bit more hopeful. “How old were you when you finally escaped?”

“Sixteen. Lied about my age, but by the time they discovered it I’d already been trained.”

Seb huffed a laugh, “Fucking figures. I was a scrawny arsed runt, and couldn’t convince them of shit. And that’s when  _ he  _ showed up, offering to help.”

He didn’t want to distract from John’s time though, “You got the house programmed too? We get to see where ickle-Johnnykins cuddled his stuffed bear?” 

John shook his head. “I do. If you really want to see.”

“We don’t typically go too deep, you and I; nice to see behind the curtain every once in while is all,” Seb answered, eyes averted. “Don’t have to.”

John took his hand and led him to a small block of flats. They went up the rickety stairs and down a ways. John hesitated only a moment before turning the handle on the door and pushing it open.

This place was just as he remembered, which was how it had been programmed. The place was small, only three rooms. The largest held the tiny kitchen and a couple battered chairs. John’s plants struggled for life above the sink. The door on the right led to the room John had shared with his sister, the one on his left belonged to their father.

“Nice,” Seb complimented, meaning it. “Sorry your dad was a tosser, though. This might have been a decent start. A room for each of you? What’s your sister up to these days?”

“I’ve no idea. I tried to get her to come with me, but she wouldn’t. Last I heard she’d followed Dad into the bottle.”

“Yeah, seen that happen more often than not. We’ve all got our escapes. Sometimes I wish it were that easy, some days I’m glad it ain’t. You done okay for yourself, though,” Seb smiled to himself, “Tend to wanna get off with some weird fucking blokes, but honestly, that’s probably the best way to handle it.”

John smiled. “Thanks. Let’s go see yours.”

Seb called up the program, giving a password when prompted. John looked at him questioningly, and he explained, “Didn’t ever want Jim here. If he was with me, I called up a friend’s place instead. Wanted just one thing to be mine, you know?”

The room fluttered around them, and Seb took a deep breath. “This is just outside, my place was that way,” he pointed. “The holodeck doesn’t recreate the air quality, for health reasons, but you see that atmosphere? Wasn’t like that a few hundred years ago. The planet was poor as fuck, and we didn’t have a lot of natural resources.” 

Seb walked around a corner, beckoning John to follow. “See this tree looking thing? Called a Bokto.” The only thing tree-like about it was the trunk, which was a pale white, spotted with blue. Seb brought them closer to see that the blue was actually a viscous substance bubbling out through pores. The leaves were greyish, with thick blue veins, and Seb nudged John, pointing up, “Watch.”

A large insect was buzzing overhead, and smacked into a leaf. The leaf reacted violently, rolling tightly around the intruder, and it reminded Seb of snakes that killed their prey by constriction; or rather the snakes reminded him of these plants. 

"Wow," said John, holding Phee a little tighter. 

“Gets better,” Seb laughed, as just a few moments the leaf unfurled, and no trace of the insect was left. “See? Like it was never there. Not a lot of solar energy here; so they eat bugs for food instead. It’s why the leaves are the same color as the sky. Used to change when the sky did; but it’s looked like this for centuries now.”

Seb dragged a finger through the blue droplets on the trunk’s surface, and licked it off. At John’s horrified look, he laughed, “It’s basically just sugar syrup. In fact, most any sweets you find on the planet’ll have a blue tint to ‘em.”

"Fascinating."

“Amazing they were able to live in all this,” Seb motioned to the crumbling industrial sprawl around them. “See that exhaust chimney, with “Plaud” tagged on the side? That factory was abandoned years ago. Ven, the guy who raised me, Ven and I lived in one of the storage closets; had our own door and everything. When he died, they sure as hell didn’t let me keep it. So then I left, went-” Seb jogged up some steel steps, that lead into a burnt out shell of a building, “There.” 

Seb pointed to a large patch of patchwork roofs, in what were clearly slums. “See the Doxovo sign? That blue and green one? Used to belong to a chain store that shut down. We stole the sign when our old roof started to leak. Me and about six other kids lived there.”

He came back down the stairs, with weary look, “So, that was home.”

John leaned in and kissed him gently. “I’m glad you survived. Never knew your true parents?”

Seb shook his head. “Mother died in childbirth, amniotic fluid embolism. No clue who the father was, and Ven was just the guy she’d sort of been dating at the time. He took me in, didn’t want to be responsible for putting me in the system. He tried to raise me okay, but he was just a kid himself, and died in a factory accident the day before I turned 14.” 

“How did Jim find you, if I can ask?”

“Don’t know much about what actually happened, not from his side. But I was in the factories, just turned 18, and this posh fuck not much older than me, comes up and asks why I’m not in the Forces and I just laughed. Told ‘im didn’t have any schooling after 13, and even if I had, I didn’t have papers. And so he gave me some line ‘bout sponsoring the impoverished, and it was sketchy as fuck. But I sized him up; he was your height, but scrawny, and I figured if it got weird, I could take him. And it was the only chance I’d ever have to get off the damn planet.”

Seb huffed a dry laugh, “Shoulda stayed. But you know, there’s no way I could have known. There aren’t men like Jim Moriarty; even the villains they’d tell in stories, nothing, no one, compared. Just my luck, I suppose.”

“I am sorry for everything he put you through, but I’m glad you’re here with me. And I’m glad for Phee.”

“Don’t get me wrong, if I could go back in time, I’d tell myself not to go. But I don’t know that it would have mattered. Everything I know now? Jim didn’t pick me by accident, not a damn chance. Don’t know if I even had the choice.”

He looked down at his daughter and gave a sad, but genuine smile, “Glad I got to do something good with my life, though.”

“You’re not a bad man, Seb, I hope you know that.”

“Not a good man, either. Wasn’t my choice to make. But really, Doc, it’s okay. I’m a speck in the cosmos; who I am, what happened to me, it doesn’t matter. Not in the long run. If it wasn’t me, it’d be someone else. Just how chance works,” Seb answered. Sure, he still fought some bizarre effects from the life he’d had before, but there was no point in being bitter; no point in crying out ‘Why me?!’ into the vacuum of space. 

He took Ophelia into his arms, “Don’t know what’s going to happen next, either. But for right now,” he kissed her on the forehead, “Chance is working out for me.” 

**Author's Note:**

> John: MerindaB on [Tumblr](http://merindab.tumblr.com) and Janto321 on [AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321).
> 
> Seb: PhiPiOhSum475 on [Tumblr](http://phipiohsum475.tumblr.com) and [AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/phipiohsum475).


End file.
